


it's all fun and games until you end up stranded on a hazardous planet with your literal soulmate

by Audity, illogicalimpulses



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Gore, Slow Burn, Smut, Violence, ion storms are convenient plot devices, like mentions of blood and such, spirk, star trek post beyond
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-21 12:12:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9548504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Audity/pseuds/Audity, https://archiveofourown.org/users/illogicalimpulses/pseuds/illogicalimpulses
Summary: the crew has gone hystericaljim and spock are stranded on a planetion storms are convenient plot devicesjim is an overdramatic babyit's gay





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> heya!
> 
> this is my second fic ever published on here, co-written by user audity.  
> please give us suggestions if you have any, and let us know if you want to see any more.
> 
> thank you!

As days on the Enterprise seemed to pass more and more slowly, the restlessness of the crew seemed to grow exponentially.

It was a day of star-mapping that managed to seem more tedious than normal, and the bridge crew was struggling to stay awake. Or half of them were, anyway. The other half had transcended a normal level of exhaustion and was, quite frankly, becoming worryingly delirious.

Jim was a part of the latter group.

“ _SULU!_ Chekov fell asleep--!” Jim laughed in an octave that Spock thought might rival Nyota’s vocal range. He wheezed, doubling over in his command chair with tears in his eyes. Pavel was indeed asleep, one side of his face mashed against his control station with his mouth hanging open slightly. With Jim’s announcement, Sulu began giggling, which quickly turned into bouts of uncontrollable laughter. Uhura was nearly falling out of her seat, clutching her midsection and laughing so hard her breathing was becoming laboured. With an effect akin to that of a landslide, the volume on the bridge continued into a cacophony.

Spock merely looked exasperatedly around at the crew members who were slowly losing their minds. While not quite to _this_ degree, the bridge crew losing control had becoming a worryingly frequent occurrence, Spock thought.

In his defence, Chekov was not the only one who had fallen asleep, Spock noted. A number of the bridge crew were snoring quietly, dark circles hanging underneath their eyes. The entire crew was in desperate need of shore leave. Their last shore leave had been deferred for the sake of a medical supply run that Starfleet had “regretted to inform them” could not be put off any longer, and as the Enterprise was the closest ship, she had been designated to make the run. At the time it hadn’t seemed like a big deal, but at present the time between their last shore leave and now seemed as endless as the part of space they were currently tasked with mapping.

Turning back to his science station, Spock decided to try and get as much work done as he could, assuming the crew would have to come down from their high eventually.

Spock worked diligently, but became concerned when the laughing persisted for almost a full half hour.

“Captain.” He stood up and walked to Jim’s side, looking down at the red-faced, gasping man, deciding even in this state Jim could not be completely unresponsive to reason

“ _Spock!_ ” Jim gasped. “Your _hair_ , man! Oh god!” Jim snorted and a number of the crew started laughing all over again. Uhura had completely fallen out of her chair.

Spock blinked. His hair was styled in its normal configuration. Perturbed, and vowing to return as quickly as possible lest the Enterprise be run into an asteroid and meet her untimely demise, he stepped into the turbolift while the crew continued in their delirium.

…

Spock walked into the Dr. McCoy’s office to find the man with his head buried in his arms on top of his desk.

He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, brow furrowed, eventually opting for, “Doctor?”

Bones merely groaned and muttered something about alcohol. Spock resisted the human urge to roll his eyes and instead walked behind McCoy’s desk to grab him by the shoulders and haul him into an upright position.

“Who...?” Bones grumbled, squinting against the bright lights above him.

“It is Commander Spock. What are you doing, Doctor?”

McCoy blinked and frowned. “Hobgoblin. You touched me. Dammit, I’m infected, now. This is the end, I’m telling you,” he mumbled, and made to put his head back down again, but Spock grabbed his shoulder to hold him in place before he could manage it.

“Doctor, as you perform my medical exams you are well aware I carry no viruses. I am here to notify you that the crew has become completely delirious. Is there anything you can do to calm them down?” Spock paused and then added, “Additionally, why are you heavily intoxicated in the middle of a shift?” He asked, shaking McCoy a bit to wake him up.

“Listen,” Leonard slurred and made to stand up and lean against his desk, turning towards the Vulcan with his right index finger pointing slightly to Spock’s left. “I know I have a no-drinking policy, but we missed shore leave, and I’m so goddamn stressed, I couldn’t help myself, y’know? I didn’t drink that much, but I grabbed some strong stuff out of my cabinet. Just... don’t tell Jim.”

Then McCoy ordered the lights to ten percent before sitting back down in his desk chair and laying his head down, indicating the conversation was over. Spock looked at the back of McCoy’s head, mildly put-off.

“Also,” McCoy mumbled, “the only thing that’ll get the crew’s spirits up is to schedule shore leave. We can’t all just meditate for a couple hours and feel like a brand new person.”

Spock inclined his head in acknowledgement before turning to escape to his quarters and, after composing a decidedly not-desperate message to the admiralty, managed to set up shore leave on a planet that was just twenty-eight hours away going Warp 4.

In retrospect, Spock wondered if, in the long run, it might not have been better to simply let the hysteria run its course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter: spock is #done and jim is #annoying


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> spock and jim both want to be gentlemen but there's only one backpack to carry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright alright alright we're starting to get to actual plot buckle in guys
> 
> featuring a made up planet name, and overuse of commas and the words "ion storm"
> 
> -audity

After Spock announced the shore leave, the Enterprise’s crew immediately rushed to their cabins to pack what they’d need for a two week long tropical vacation on the planet Minshara III. Starfleet had assured Spock that the vacation facilities there were amazing, and that the crew would have plenty of time to catch up on much needed relaxation. In truth Spock was a little tired himself, but he was at least still functioning normally, and with the crew off the ship he would have plenty of time to work and meditate in peace without the continual threat of something going wrong, which would provide adequate rest.

After Jim’s laughing fit earlier in the day he had calmed down, but now instead of “slaphappy”, as Nyota had called it, he just seemed exhausted. He knocked on and opened the door to Spock’s cabin, and unceremoniously dropped himself on top of Spock’s bed.  

Before Spock could think too deeply about the image of Jim laid out across his bed, Jim began to speak. “Sorry for joking about your hair earlier,” he mumbled awkwardly, voice muffled by Spock’s grey comforter.

Spock inclined his head toward his Captain. “It is no matter,” he stated. “You were not of sound mind.”

Jim seemed to flush even more at that, and before Spock could begin to question why, his face returned to its normal color and he put on a more serious look. “The leaders of the vacation colony would like to meet with the two of us in person before the rest of the crew beams down, just to make sure everything is in order. Apparently they don’t get human visitors very often, and are wary of our wild streak.” Jim grinned. “So it’s up to us to convince them nothing bad will happen while the crew is down there for two weeks.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “I do not believe their wariness is unfounded.”

Jim outright laughed at that, and Spock briefly worried that he was heading into another hysteric episode, but then Jim stood up from the bed and started walking towards the door. “The sooner we talk to the people in charge the sooner we get this crazy crew down there for a break,” he said, standing up and heading out the door with the full confidence that Spock would be right behind him, just where he always was.

Once they reached the transporter room, Spock looked at Mr. Scott, and noted the large bags under his eyes. “Mr. Scott, you are of sound enough mind to operate the transporter?” Spock asked the engineer, knowing that most of the crew was too overtired to even think straight.

“Yes, yes, of course. I could operate this transporter in my sleep, who d’you think I am?” Scotty grumbled, gesturing vaguely around him. “Ready?”

Unsure, the corner of Spock’s lip twitched as his frustration grew. This was a serious matter. “Mr. Scott, I hope we will not reach that point. If you would like me to double check the coordinates that you’ve programmed--”

“Energize,” Jim blurted, annoyed by the wait. Spock’s eyes widened and he did the Vulcan equivalent of a glare in Jim’s direction, who simply smiled brightly back at Spock while they disappeared in a column of spiraling gold photons.

…

Once they appeared on the planet, Spock immediately knew something was wrong, and wished he’d been more insistent with Mr. Scott before the transporter had been activated. He looked to his right, where Jim was supposed to be, and his breath caught in his throat, forcing the image of his mother falling out of his reach to the back of his mind.

“Captain?” He shouted, turning in a full circle, scanning the woodsy terrain. He heard a cough near his feet and his gaze shifted downward. Jim was lying on the ground.

“Jim, what are you doing?” Spock blinked at the man. The captain was experienced in transportation, and falling down once one had transported was a mistake generally only made by first year cadets.

“I’m sleeping,” Jim said, then giggled. Spock sent another patented glare towards his captain before reaching down and grabbing him by the wrist in an attempt to pull him to his feet.

“Woah, woah, _woah!_ ” Jim yelled, batting Spock’s hands away. Affronted, Spock stood up straight, repressing a huff of annoyance as the man clambered up to standing of his own accord. Spock more thoroughly observed the terrain they stood on. It was woodsy, and far from the tropical paradise they were supposed to have beamed down to. He distantly smelled salt water, and wondered if its source was an ocean.

Spock’s eyes narrowed in the direction of the mystery body of water. “This is not the correct planet.”

Jim finished brushing dirt off his clothes, and looked up at his first officer. “Huh?”

Spock turned toward Jim, considering the man. “Jim.”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“At the very least we are an incredible distance from our intended destination _._ ”

Jim stared at him blankly for a moment. Then, much to Spock’s ever-increasing frustration, started to laugh again.

“Oh god.” Jim rubbed at his eyes. “Scotty must be _really_ tired.”

Spock turned away disdainfully and flipped open his communicator. “This is Commander Spock, come in Enterprise.”

There was static, and in between came the sounds of a barely distinguishable Scottish accent. Jim and Spock looked at each other, all signs of amusement diminished as Spock attempted to strengthen the signal.

“Spock, here. Come in, Enterprise. Can you hear me?”

The crackling continued and Jim started pacing, sighing in frustration, his mind shifting into problem solving mode.

“ _...massive ion storm-- ..._ ” crackled through the device. “ _...cannot transport people… survival packs… contacting Starfleet as soon a--_ ”

Then the communicator went completely silent, the only indication anyone knew they were on the planet’s surface being a mid size survival pack that materialized just as the static had died. After seconds stretched into minutes and they didn’t hear anything from Scotty, Spock shut the now useless communicator and turned to face Jim, who was looking back at Spock with something between determination and curiosity in his eyes.

“We must find cover,” Spock picked up the backpack that lay in front of them, positioned it on his shoulders, and immediately began walking down the hill they had landed on.

Jim groaned loudly, his requests that Spock let him carry the pack falling on deaf ears. Instead, he took to complaining. “This was supposed to be a _peaceful shore leave_ , but _no_ , now the Enterprise’s most superior officers are very much alone on a planet we know nothing about, stuck here for god knows how long until they figure out a way to beam us up from this planet which apparently is _surrounded by a massive ion storm_ \--”

“Jim,” Spock interrupted gently, ceasing his descent and looking Jim in the eyes, shocking Jim to a stop. “It is unfortunate that we are in this situation, but we will make it back to the Enterprise. The ion storm must weaken eventually. It is a scientific eventuality.”

A cool breeze carrying the scent and spray of the ocean blew gently by while Jim, who was having trouble figuring out what to say, eventually decided on a simple  “Thank you, Spock.”

“There is no logical use in thanking me after the statement I made, Captain. I have simply relayed facts I am sure you are already aware of.” Spock raised an eyebrow at his captain, then turned and continued downhill. Illogical humans.

Jim smiled despite the circumstances, a burst of affection bubbling in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time: spock realizes some shit and jim still really needs a nap
> 
> follow us on tumblr @audjolras and @illogicalimpulses 
> 
> next chapter will be up in the next few days and kudos and comments are always appreciated


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> spock gets introspective and domestic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapters are gonna start to get longer starting with this one!! 
> 
> -audity

“Spock, what are we even looking for?” Jim asked after twenty minutes of walking.

“As I said before, we must find cover. We cannot know what might befall us on this planet, and having a ‘home base’, as one might say, is the logical place to start,” Spock answered smoothly.

“Okay, I should have been more specific I guess. What _kind_ of cover are we looking for?”

“Even the shallowest of caves would be sufficient, I would think.” Spock glanced down at his ever-present tricorder and peered ahead of them. “If this forest resembles the typical woodlands of a Class M planet we should have no trouble finding one within the next two to three hours.”

At that, Jim stopped dead in his tracks. ”Two to three _hours,_ Spock?”

Spock turned to face his captain. “I am aware that constitutes somewhat of a hike for you, especially in your current disadvantaged state--”

“I’m not that tired Spock,” Jim said, but Spock continued to talk over him.

“--but we also need to make our way towards the body of water that bears roughly twenty degrees west of north, as it will make it easier for Mr. Scott to find us if the ion storm persists,” Spock finished.

Jim resisted the urge to stomp his feet like a petulant child, because dammit, even if Spock was the only one there to see it he _was_ still captain of the ‘fleet’s finest starship. He settled for an undignified groan instead. “Fine,” he said, resigned to his temporary fate, and motioned for Spock to continue leading them towards hypothetical shelter.

The two walked through the woods, Jim uncharacteristically quiet, the silence only disturbed by the sound of leaves under their feet and Jim’s breathing. Spock had slowed his pace to match that of Jim’s dragging steps, but even so after about forty-five minutes the distance between them had grown to a larger distance than Spock was comfortable with, considering the circumstances.

Spock came to a halt, and looked back over his shoulder at Jim, waiting until he caught up to say simply, “Captain.”

Jim looked at Spock out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah?”

“Are you in need of assistance?” Spock dropped the tricorder back to its resting position at his hip and turned to face Jim.

“What? No, no, I’m fine, Spock. Just because I’m tired doesn’t mean I can’t walk a few miles. Contrary to what Bones seems to believe, I’m actually as fit as I’ve ever been.” Jim waved his hand at Spock, though his labored breathing somewhat undermined the point he was attempting to make.

Spock ran his gaze over the stubborn captain, quickly weighing his options. Before Jim had a chance to say anything else, Spock was moving towards him, scooping Jim into his arms without preamble.

“What the fuck?” Jim yelled as a light blush spread across his cheeks. “Sp--Spock! _Put me down!_ ” He flailed weakly against the half-Vulcan, thought the effect was akin to that of trying to shove a brick wall.

“Captain,” Spock began, preparing to voice his argument in as condensed a way as possible, but was kept from continuing by an elbow to the side of his face, and the accompanying image of Jim’s eyes going almost comically large.

“Shit, sorry, Spock, that was accidental,” Jim said. He looked as if he wanted to reach out to touch Spock’s cheek, but then thought better of it and said somewhat lamely, “That’s probably gonna bruise.”

Spock, slightly unsettled by what had almost been skin to skin contact, gently set his captain down in an attempt to diffuse what he supposed was an embarrassing situation for Jim, then grabbed his tricorder from its place on his hip and resumed moving in the direction they had been heading earlier. Jim awkwardly straightened his command shirt, which had ridden up on his stomach in Spock’s grip, then followed his first officer, willing the blush on his cheeks to fade.

After what felt like days to Jim, and the light had begun to fade, he bumped into Spock who had stopped abruptly in front of him.

“Jesus, a little warning next time?” Jim grumbled, running a hand down his face. He’d been running on adrenaline in the wake of the transporter malfunction, but now even those reserves were beginning to run dry. Spock quirked an eyebrow.

“I do not see how a historical Christian figure is at all relevant to our current situation,” He shot a questioning look at his Captain before turning to address the view.

“I know you know what I meant, Spock. The rest of the crew isn’t here, you don’t have to pretend--” but he trailed off when Spock simply pointed towards the body of water in front of them.

They were standing on a high cliff, the likes of which afforded them a view of the ocean stretching in front of them in all directions. The sun was just beginning to set on the horizon, and the water was tinted shades of purple and pink that Jim had never even imagined. A cool breeze carried ocean spray up to where they were standing, and Jim’s brain supplied him with the image of himself looking down towards the water in San Francisco from the top of the Academy observation deck on nights when sleep eluded him and he didn’t want to ask Bones for a sleep hypo. The sound of the waves lapping against the cliff face below them accompanied bird calls sounding from high above in the thin scraggly trees that made up the edge of the forest.

Jim gazed peacefully out at the view, and noticed an undefinable but soft emotion on Spock’s face, and wondered what Spock was thinking about as he stared out across the vast emptiness of the ocean. Spock almost imperceptibly shook his head before letting his gaze drift away and made eye contact with Jim before looking down at the readings his tricorder was giving him.

“A suitable cave should not be much farther. Come along, Jim.”

And if a warm little feeling crept its way into Jim’s chest at the sound of his name in the soothing baritone, he wasn’t quite willing to think about what that might mean.

…

Spock was right, of course. It took about ten minutes for them to carefully make their way down the back side of the cliff where they weren’t likely to fall to their death, and at the bottom there was a cave that Jim supposed went back about a hundred yards, with a narrow, protectable opening, and Jim immediately curled up on the floor, mumbling something about Spock taking command before falling asleep almost immediately.

Which left Spock to think about the events that had transpired since they had been transported onto this planet. He had come to the conclusion that Jim and himself were on the right planet, considering there was no planet within reasonable transporter distance other than Minshara III. But with the ion storm Scotty had told them was occurring up above there was no telling how quickly they would be found, especially given the unpredictable nature of ion storms, and the fact that there seemed to be no humanoid life in this sector of the planet.

As Spock considered their options for the next indeterminate amount of time until they were rescued (he refused to think the word _if_ ), his gaze drifted to Jim’s sleeping form. He had seen Jim sleep before on other occasions that called for guard shifts to be taken, such as a stake out on a planet, though the pair of them was traditionally with a group of other people, and as such Spock wouldn’t dare be caught staring, but on this occasion Spock allowed himself to examine the the lines of his friend’s body.

He had long since allowed himself to acknowledge the fact that he found James Kirk attractive. It was not just Jim’s aesthetic appeal though. Spock could also acknowledge that any number of Enterprise crew members possessed traditional beautiful traits. Jim was different.

Spock was intrigued by things he did not understand, and Jim Kirk was an enigma.

Jim was intelligent, but not arrogant. He was cocky, but not overconfident. He was a commanding presence among enemies, but one of the gentlest souls Spock had ever encountered.

Above anything else Jim was unapologetically himself, a trait that Spock had yet to master, and could not help but admire.

In the time it had taken for Jim to fall asleep and Spock to have his period of introspection the sun had finished falling below the horizon, and the cave had become almost pitch black. Using his elevated Vulcan sense of sight, Spock set about setting a small fire, moving just outside the opening of the cave to pick up twigs and leaves that would work well as brush and arranging them in a pile near the area of the cave Jim had fallen asleep in. Spock pulled his phaser from its position on his belt and, turning it to the lowest setting, aimed it at the pile of forest debris to ignite it. The fire, while not a sizable source of heat, would provide adequate light for human eyes when Jim woke up, and Spock decided it was acceptable.

Spock brought the survival pack over to where Jim was curled up, and sat down next to him. Unzipping the backpack, Spock examined the contents. Inside he saw a phaser, which he sat down next to where Jim’s and his own lay. Next, Spock pulled out a large container of water. He estimated it would last about two days if he and Jim rationed it. Sometime before then they would need to find a source of fresh water, but for the moment that was not of the highest priority. In a smaller outside pocket there was packaged protein chips, and Spock could imagine the look of disappointment on Jim’s face when he realized that was all they would have to eat, save for anything they could find on the planet’s surface. Next, Spock pulled out a tent, which he set off to the side. Seeing as they had found the cave for shelter, unless they were forced to relocate, the tent would be unnecessary.

Under the tent, Spock found a set of thermal clothing, which he was thankful for. He had concluded the surface temperature of the planet would be adequate for Jim with the cover of their cave, but he would still be somewhat chilled, especially at night. Underneath the clothing was a thermal blanket in the same regulation black color. Spock looked between the pile of fabric that he had laid at his feet and made a decision. He pulled off his blue uniform shirt, and shivered with only his tight black undershirt to warm him before he pulled on the long sleeved thermal shirt. Spock folded his shirt up with characteristic efficiency before gently lifting Jim’s head and placing the shirt under it so as to keep Jim’s head off of the unforgiving rock floor of the cave. Next, he grabbed the blanket he had pulled out of the pack and moved to his knees, draping the blanket over Jim’s resting body before leaning back against the wall of the cave.

Looking between Jim, the entrance to the cave, and the fire, and considering the lack of threats that they had faced since arriving on the planet, Spock came to the conclusion that there would be no harm in him entering a shallow meditative state. In this way he could still be up in an instant should anyone or anything attempt to attack them in the night, and Jim could continue in the deep sleep that he so desperately needed.

Spock closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall of the cave, willing the ion storm to pass quickly. For both his sake and Jim’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time:
> 
> spock: [has an emotion] am i dying?
> 
> once again, @audjolras and @illogicalimpulses on tumblr and kudos and comments are appreciated as always


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jim accidentally reveals too much, and spock is unsure of his next move

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wooo longer chapter again you're all welcome and enjoy
> 
> -audity

_Jim was fourteen and he was running for his life. The faces of the kids he was supposed to be protecting flashed before his eyes, and he said a prayer for whoever was listening. They deserved better than this. He didn’t deserve the trust they’d put in him._

_Looking over his shoulder, Jim tried to estimate how close his assailants were to catching up to him, but when he didn’t see any of Kodos’ goons he slowed to a stop, leaning against a tree branch and panting. They were faster than him. Stronger than him. Which meant they’d deliberately peeled off and were taking a new angle. Jim willed his sluggish mind to work faster. To figure out what the hell they were doing. The only answer he could come up with was that they had found where he and the kids were staying, and with a new resolve he took off sprinting as fast as his broken body could towards the cave he had left them in._

_The place they were supposed to be safe._

_Skidding to a halt in front of the cave, using the wall to brace himself against the spots swimming in his vision, Jim moved slowly and deliberately back into the cave._

_In front of him where there should have been a circle of kids there was a body, and a positively gleeful henchman hovering over it. The henchman disappeared with a pop, and Jim saw the face in front of him. It was younger than he’d ever seen it, but it was unmistakably…_

“ _SPOCK!”_ adult Jim yelled, sitting upright in the cave on Minshara III, his heart pounding, body sore, and his shirt sticking uncomfortably to his back. “Spock,” he said again, quieter, and almost indistinguishable under the sound of blood rushing in his ears. Jim focused his gaze, and found that Spock was next to him, close enough to touch, and where their eyes met Jim saw genuine concern, and maybe a little bit of fear.

“I am here, Jim,” Spock said gently, and reached out to put a comforting hand over Jim’s blanket covered knee. _When did that get there?_ Jim wondered distantly, before Spock’s voice brought him back to full awareness. “Am I to assume that you have had a nightmare?”

The image of a teenage Spock laying on the cold unforgiving ground wormed its way back into Jim’s mind unbidden, and he shivered. “It was nothing,” he said weakly, but Spock looked unconvinced.

“Jim,” Spock offered, as earnest as any Vulcan could sound, “I can help you. I do not wish for you to be in any pain, physical or emotional.”

Jim laughed, and wondered if it sounded as forced to Spock as it felt to him. “Thanks Spock, but I wouldn’t even have wished my fucked up memories on you when you were just a professor trying to get me in trouble for cheating.” It had taken Bones a year and a half to get anything out of Jim other than an acknowledgement that Jim had been on Tarsus in the first place, and only with copious amounts of alcohol.

“While you may believe that your memories are too off-putting for other individuals to help you bear, in this case it is of no consequence.” Spock turned so that his body was facing Jim’s. “I would simply be on the surface of your mind, and as such will not bear witness to any specific memories. I would simply make you feel more at ease, thus making you more efficient as we continue to explore this planet and wait for the storm above us to pass.”

Any protest Jim might have made died on his lips when he saw the genuine want to help on Spock’s face, and he nodded, eyes following Spock’s hand as it found its way to the meld points on Jim’s face.

Almost immediately Jim could feel the vestiges of terror that remained being buried under feelings of contentment and calm that Spock projected through the weak link. Jim looked at Spock’s face, eyes closed, his eyebrows furrowed just slightly as he concentrated on making Jim feel better. The fact that Spock was helping him in such an intimate way brought to the surface a rush of affection that he knew didn’t originate from Spock, and he jerked away from the meld, embarrassed.

Spock faltered, hand hovering uncertainly in the air as his eyes opened and searched his captain’s face. “Jim?”

Jim shook his head minutely, flushing. “I just…,” but he trailed off, not sure what he could say to get the atmosphere back to what it had been before his feelings had gotten in the way. 

Spock’s eyes seemed to soften. “It is alright, Jim. It will not hurt you.”

“That’s not it,” Jim forced a strained laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. _What is it?_

Spock tilted his head in question. “I am only attempting to assist you.”

 _Of course,_ Jim thought. _He’s only helping you so you don’t become completely useless. Don’t make this weird. Who knows how long you’ll be stuck here with him. You can’t make this into something it isn’t._

“Sorry, Spock. Mind melds are just weird when you’re not used to them, right?” Jim asked, and tried for a reassuring smile, but knew it lacked his usual charm. “Keep going.”

Spock didn’t look completely reassured, but Jim was thankful when he didn’t ask anymore questions and wordlessly placed his fingers onto Jim’s psi-points again. The steady stream of contentment and calm resumed flowing into Jim’s mind, and he made an effort this time to keep his affection in check. _He won’t appreciate it,_ he told himself. He felt an invisible source of warmth wrap around him, and he felt his heartbeat slow. Just as Jim thought maybe he could spend the rest of his life like this, enveloped in warmth and happiness, the weight of Spock’s hand dropped from Jim’s face. Jim’s eyes fluttered open -- _when had he closed them? --_ as cool air touched where Spock’s fingers had been a few seconds ago.  Spock was looking at him a little strangely, as if he’d just seen something abnormal, but before Jim could psychoanalyze anything the man’s face was impassive again.

As silence stretched between them the air felt tense with something Jim couldn’t identify.   

“Are you feeling better?” Spock said, pulling Jim from his reverie.

Jim blinked for a moment, mind blanking. “What? Oh. Yeah, I feel great. Thank you,” he said, and this time the smile was genuine. Spock nodded, clearly satisfied with his work, before standing up and moving towards the cave’s entrance to examine the area around them with more daylight than had been provided them when they arrived the evening before. Jim allowed himself a moment to look freely at his first officer. Pale sunlight brightened his sharp features in the early morning light, and his hair was just enough out of place for it to be endearing. What had he felt during the mind meld? Jim certainly felt like _something_ had happened.

“Jim, do you require sustenance?” Spock asked suddenly, looking back down at him.

Jim slid the thermal blanket off of his shoulders, not daring to ask Spock how it had gotten there. “Yeah, if we’re being honest, I’m starving. What kind of food is in the survival pack?”

Spock was already making his way to where the small backpack lay. He crouched down to open it and pulled out the package of protein chips. He threw the small package to Jim who caught it with ease.

“Really? This is all we have?” He made a face, and Spock watched with some amusement. The look on Jim’s face was exactly as he had imagined it when he had found the protein chips the night before.

“Is there any _coffee_ in the survival pack?” Jim asked, not sure if he was joking.

“No, there is not, considering coffee is not necessary for survival.” Spock blinked at Jim.

“Debatable,” Jim said, covering up a yawn.

“There is water in the survival pack if you are thirsty, and if you would like, I can go outside and scavenge the area for anything that may prove edible,” Spock offered, ignoring Jim’s illogical response, taking his tricorder out from where he’d stored it inside the pack.

Jim looked up from the pack of protein chips. “No, let me. I’ve been useless so far.”

Before Spock could protest against that statement, Jim had stood up, and was surveying the cave in the pale light. He noticed the ashen pile of sticks and brush in the center of the cave floor. “You made a fire?”

“Apparently,” Spock raised an eyebrow and Jim scoffed, looking down at the area around his feet. It was then Jim noticed the blue folded-up uniform shirt where his head had been resting, and that Spock had changed into a thermal shirt. Jim’s eyes widened at the blue shirt. Spock had taken off his shirt and turned it into a makeshift pillow for Jim. _And_ he’d laid a blanket over Jim’s sleeping form. Jim looked at Spock again and realized he was wearing a thermal shirt Jim supposed had come from the survival pack. A thermal shirt that fitted him pretty tightly, Jim’s mind supplied. At that, his heart rate started to increase again, and it wasn’t from his nightmare.

Jim grabbed his phaser from where it was laying next to the survival pack, ready to escape the suddenly very warm cave. “I’m serious. Let me go find the food. Give me your tricorder.”

Spock walked back across the cave and held out the tricorder, which Jim took, taking care not to brush fingers.

“Thank you,” Jim smiled, then walked toward the cave entrance.

Spock asked took a step toward him. “We do not know what dangers there are on this planet. It would be logical for me to accompany you.”

 _Plan failed,_ Jim thought, but he figured he should have expected this. He turned to give a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“Vulcans do not worry,” Spock responded, and Jim was only mildly distracted by the quirking corners of his lips when he spoke.

“Well, that’s what I said to do, isn’t it? Don’t worry. If I need you, I’ll just scream,” Jim joked.

Spock looked vaguely affronted. “Jim, do you not have your communicator?”

Jim bit back his grin. “Of course I have my communicator.” He pointed to where it was situated on his belt. “I was only joking.”

Spock appeared only slightly exasperated as Jim turned and walked out of the cave, breathing in the crisp morning air.

…

Spock was sitting cross-legged on the edge of the cliff overlooking the sea, meditating peacefully while the sun continued to rise in the sky. What he’d seen in his mind meld with Jim was confusing to him. Initially he had believed the affection had come from himself, and worried that Jim had pulled away from the meld because he was disgusted by the blatant emotionalism Spock had just displayed. But Spock’s feelings were buried deeply) or so he had thought before being stranded on a planet alone with his captain, and should not have been detectable. Especially not by a psi-null human.

Though, he thought, Jim was incredibly perceptive.

Nevertheless, he had been forced to conclude that the rush of emotions through the shallow meld had come from Jim, and that was just as confusing as if Spock had been projecting. The feeling had been more than friendship. Friendship was what he had felt for Nyota, and what he had mistakenly thought indicated romantic attachment during their time as a couple. Bitterly, he wondered if he might have realized that if he had not been so ostracized as a child, but quickly filed those feelings away to deal with at a later time.

Knowing that Jim had feelings similar to his own should have made Spock’s decision on what to do next an easy one. Fully aware of the irony involved in the situation, Spock seemed to be less sure of his next move in regards to his personal relationship with Jim than he had been before the meld.

He was brought back to Earth -- or Minshara III, as it were -- by the beeping of his communicator. He pulled himself from his meditative state and immediately flipped the device open. “Jim?”

_“Hey. I found some weird lookin’ plants, but they seem edible. Should I bring them over, or do you wanna see them for yourself?”_

Spock stood up, careful not to fall over the rocky cliff edge. “I will come to your location. Which direction did you head?”

_“I walked along the cliff edge to the left of the cave’s opening if you’re looking at it from its outside, y’know. There’s a kind of clearing not too far away and that’s where I am. I’ll scream when I see you.”_

Spock’s was puzzled once again. There were still many aspects of humans which he simply did could not wrap his mind around. “I do not understand why screaming is necessary. We have communicators which can be used in place of _screaming_.”

 _“I was_ joking _, Spock.”_ Jim sounded like he was giggling. Spock could not comprehend it.

“I am on my way.” Spock shut his communicator and followed the edge of the cliff as Jim had indicated.

Spock walked for about fifteen minutes through scraggly trees and strangely shaped purple, white and blue flora. He had encountered little animal life so far. Mostly tiny insects of various colors which he’d noticed crawling across tree bark, and small birds which flew around the tops of the peculiar trees, calling to each other. The sun’s position and and growing warmth in the brightening sky told him that it was about mid-morning now. Part of his brain nagged him continuously, hoping Jim had not fainted from lack of sustenance. He should have insisted Jim eat some of the protein chips before he had left the cave.

Spock suddenly stepped into something of a clearing, flowers scattered unceremoniously across the grassy floor, and in the middle of it sat Jim, who seemed to be weaving a circle of the strange flowers, tying their stems together. Jim looked up, golden light filtering through the trees and shining on his soft features. Spock’s heart seemed to flip in his side, and his hand shot to it, unacquainted with this sensation. He briefly wondered if he was suffering from some unknown illness, but Jim interrupted his train of thoughts.

“Glad you found me. I was starting to wonder if you’d fallen off the cliff,” Jim broke into a crooked smile, and Spock’s heart flipped again. He wondered how much longer he had to live.

“The directions you provided me with were easy to follow,” Spock answered, and walked towards Jim, eyes on the flower circle in his hands. “What are you doing?”

“It’s called a flower crown,” Jim answered, looking up at him.

“It is to be worn on the head?” Spock asked, brow furrowing slightly. _Why would humans wear flora on their heads in such a fashion?_

“Yeah. Like this.” Jim placed the completed crown on his own head and looked up at Spock.

Spock gazed at Jim, who looked so incredibly exquisite in this moment. If anyone unacquainted with James Kirk and his many accomplishments as Starfleet’s finest flagship Captain saw him right now, they never would have guessed.

Jim was smiled unabashedly up at the half-Vulcan, who then realized he was staring fairly openly at his captain. “Do you want one? I can make one for you.”

Spock quickly cleared his mind of illogical thoughts toward his captain. “I do not see the purpose of these ‘flower crowns’.”

“Well, they’re purely for aesthetic purposes. They’re cute,” Jim shrugged.

Spock inclined his head. “Did you not call me here for a purpose other than to observe your creation?”

Jim uncrossed his legs. “Are you changing the subject because you don’t think this is cute?” He pointed to the ring of flora sitting atop his golden hair.

Spock thought Jim looked absolutely stunning in this moment just as any other, but he could hardly say that. Instead he continued with his previous line of questioning. “Jim, I am trying to make sure that you and I are properly fed so that we do not starve before Mr. Scott rescues us.”

“Yeah, but isn’t this cute?” He pressed, still pointing at the flowers resting on his hair.

Frustrated that Jim would not let the subject go, and worried his body would betray him with a blush if they did not move on, Spock looked at the flower crown, and eventually decided on saying, “It is…  aesthetically pleasing.”

Jim grinned, clearly pleased with the outcome of their conversation, and finally moved on to the reason he had called Spock to the clearing in the first place. “Alright, follow me, the plants are this way.” Jim stood up, still wearing the crown of flowers, and walked away from Spock, who followed.

After a moment Jim and Spock made it to an area with a smattering of tall red-colored plants that were swaying, though Spock could not detect any breeze. Their appearance was similar to that of seaweed on Earth, though these were clearly not underwater, and were thicker in width. Jim scanned them with the tricorder and showed Spock the results. “They appear to be edible, but I wanted to hear your scientific opinion.”

Spock touched one of the plants, and after a moment of nothing happening, pulled out a pocketknife from his pants pocket.

“Shit, was that in the survival pack?” Jim asked, eyes widening.

Spock looked up at Jim. “Negative. I have taken to carrying a pocketknife with me. They are quite useful.”

“I thought-- I mean, I guess I never-- I mean, doesn’t Starfleet have rules against that?” Jim struggled to wrap his mind around the idea of Spock with a pocketknife.

Spock observed the knife in his hand. “Starfleet allows superior officers to carry defensive weaponry besides phasers. Were you not aware of this?”

Jim opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I… I guess not.”

Spock raised an eyebrow, then sliced into the bottom of the swaying plant. The skin was tough, but Spock cut through it with a quick slice. After observing what appeared to be red meat inside the tougher outside, he handed the now limp plant up to Jim, who took it from him. After Spock cut down a few more of the plants, the two of them started the short walk back towards their cave.

“It’s creepy how they go all limp after you cut them,” Jim commented, still wearing his flower crown, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at the long plants in his hands.

Spock glanced at the red plants. “It is best not to question these things. Thinking about it further may discomfort you.”

“It already discomforts me,” Jim muttered in a way that reminded Spock of Dr. McCoy, and looked distrustfully at the plants.

“Yet, humans see it fit to end an animal’s life to eat their meat. Does this not discomfort you?” Spock asked, though not in an accusatory manner.

Jim shrugged. “I guess I’m just used to eating animals. Like how you’re used to eating plants. I just think it’s disturbing to see _plants_ die like that.”

Spock nodded, trying to see it from Jim’s perspective.

Jim continued to stare down at the red plants while they walked, and Spock noticed that he was walking precariously close to the edge of the cliff.

“Jim,” Spock warned, and reached towards the man to pull him from danger.

“Shit,” Jim gasped as his foot slipped and he felt his right side hover precariously over empty space for a terrifying moment while Spock’s breath caught in his throat. _Not again. Not ever._ Jim barely had time to drop the vegetation on solid ground before he felt his other foot slip over the edge of the cliff, mind panicking and heart racing. He barely had time to process it all before a pair of strong, steady hands grabbed his forearm. Jim’s shoulder jerked painfully and he wildly looked up at Spock, whose eyes were as determined and focused.

Jim hung over about forty feet of empty air. Looking back down, he watched as his flower crown fluttered downward and landed gently on the waves, which quickly washed over it as they broke against the side of the cliff. He felt faint. “Fuck. Shit. Spock, pull me up.” As the waves below him crashed against the cliff a new wave of panic overtook Jim.

“I think my shoulder’s dislocated,” he said once Spock had hauled him back up onto solid ground and away from the cliff. Spock’s eyes widened minutely as he leaned over Jim’s prone form with concern etched into his face.

“Jim… “ Spock closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “Do be more careful. I do not… I do not wish for you to be injured.”

Jim breathed heavily, distracted from his own pain at the amount of concern curiously readable on Spock’s face. “I’m alright, don’t worry. Maybe just set my shoulder, it’s a little uncomfortable.” Jim breathed shakily, terrified by what might had happened if he hadn’t called for Spock to help him examine the plants. Spock pushed on Jim’s shoulder and popped it back into its socket, and Jim winced. Spock’s hand lingered heavily on his shoulder, as if afraid to remove it. Jim was suddenly very aware of this.

“Some survival partner I am,” he said, trying to defuse some of the tension. “First I elbow you in the face -- that’s starting to bruise by the way -- and then you have to save me from falling to my death.” Jim looked at Spock’s face, eyes moving from the concerned tilt of Spock’s lips to the darkening area around Spock’s eye.

Weirdly, the idea of Spock with a black eye was kind of exciting for Jim. He pushed that thought away.

“A black eye is of no consequence when you have nearly suffered much worse, Jim. Please stay to my left as we walk back, so that you are further from the cliff edge,” Spock said, his hand falling from Jim’s shoulder. “I will not have you fall again.” _I will not lose you again._

Jim wanted to protest but knew that Spock would have none of it. “All right, Commander,” He sighed. Using his right arm to push himself up to a sitting position, he looked at Spock, who still looked vaguely fearful. Jim’s heart twisted. He’d seen that look on Spock’s face before.

“Hey,” Jim said more gently. “I’m alright. I promise.”

Spock looked unconvinced, but helped Jim up to standing then picked up all the red vegetation Jim had dropped.

“I will carry this, and you will do nothing but watch your step,” Spock ordered, looking pointedly at Jim, who acquiesced without complaint.

They walked in silence for a while longer, Jim occasionally glancing at Spock’s profile to try and figure out if he was mad. But once they had started walking again Spock’s face became unreadable as usual. Jim was desperate to find out what was going on in his mind. The sun was now reaching its peak in the middle of the sky and it was much warmer than it had been that morning.

“Sorry,” Jim said quietly, out of nowhere. He and Spock were nearly back to the cave, and Jim had his hands shoved into his pockets despite the way his left shoulder protested with every movement. “I was careless and I could’ve died.”

Spock said nothing for a moment, and then stopped, gaze lowered to where he held the plants in his hand. Then, “It is of no consequence. What matters is that you are safe now.”

 _What’s going on between those pointed ears?_ Jim wondered, but was distracted when Spock began walking again.

Jim was intrigued by things he did not understand, and Spock was an enigma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> up next: jim's dreams come to haunt him in a different way
> 
> @audjolras and @illogicalimpulses on tumblr
> 
> also!! starting with this chapter we're gonna try and make our update schedule consistent and upload on wednesdays and either saturday/sunday each week until it's done
> 
> thank you for reading and we appreciate all of you


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> spock almost has a heart attack for multiple reasons and jim kirk is too good for this world

“Wait, Spock,” Jim said later, after they’d managed to set up a makeshift spit over their meager fire and had begun to cook the plants. “I know the outside of this is vegetation, but is the inside actually meat?” He picked up one of the pieces of plant they hadn’t cooked yet and turned it over in his hands.

Spock raised an eyebrow at Jim in a way that made Jim feel like he was back in third grade and had been sent to the principal’s office. “As closely as this vegetation resembles meat, its composition is not such. The tricorder readings should have indicated that.”

“I was more worried about the part of the reading that indicated whether they were going to poison us and cause us long painful deaths,” Jim muttered, and turned to pretend to rifle through the survival pack to avoid looking at Spock. 

The pair sat in companionable silence for the next few minutes until the first of the not-meat plants was ready to eat. Spock cut it into two pieces, offering one half to Jim, who cautiously took a bite out of it.

“It doesn’t really taste like anything,” Jim said, looking at the food in his hand. He couldn’t deny that it felt good go have something other than protein chips in his stomach though. As much as he hated them he’d caved and eaten a few while he and Spock had found more kindling for a fire and jerry-rigged a spit to cook the plants on. They protein chips were just as unappetizing as he remembered them being during his survival simulation at Starfleet Academy, but especially in the wake of his nightmare from that morning, the pang of hunger that shot through him was too much to ignore.

“Neither do the protein chips,” Spock pointed out, and as Jim took another bite, he felt juice from the plant run down his chin, envious of Spock’s ability to not make a mess of himself.

Whatever the plants were, Jim was grateful for them. He continued eating until his stomach felt sufficiently full, and helped Spock store the rest of the uncooked plants in a small alcove within the cave. 

“Now what?” Jim asked, looking at Spock. “Do you think we have any chance of contacting the Enterprise?”

Spock thought over his words. “Considering the only technology we currently possess consists of our communicators and our phasers, any effort to contact the Enterprise would be ninety-two percent futile.”

Jim grinned. Spock was still Spock, no matter what the situation was. “Well, what about that other eight percent, huh? We should at least try.”

Spock looked at Jim, his eyes scrutinizing. “I will attempt to reprogram the communicators so their signal has a higher likelihood of reaching the Enterprise. You, however, will rest. You are fully human, and therefore need more rest than I do, not even taking into consideration your recently dislocated shoulder.”

Jim grin fell from his face. He enjoyed Spock being so willing to take care of him, but he would not be treated like a child. “Spock, I can--”

“No,” Spock interrupted. “Jim, please. Let me try and contact the Enterprise. You may do whatever you like, as long as you remain unharmed and well-rested.” 

Jim thought about protesting, but knew he wouldn’t win. And Spock was right, there wasn’t a whole lot Jim could do to help him with the communicators. He nodded in acquiescence, and watched as Spock took the communicators out into the light of the mid-afternoon.

He supposed he was tired, as much as he didn’t want to admit it. Jim looked around the area where he was seated, and saw where he had discarded the thermal blanket and Spock’s makeshift shirt pillow that morning. The same affection that he had felt this morning during the meld returned full force, and he had a thought.

Looking outside the cave to make sure he wasn’t in Spock’s line of sight, Jim grabbed the blue uniform and pulled it to his chest. It smelled like Spock.

Maybe a nap isn’t such a bad idea, Jim thought. This time though, he made sure to lay on top of the thermal blanket. He wasn’t going to lay on top of the rock floor of the cave if he didn’t have to.

…

Jim smirked as he made eye contact with Spock across the chessboard. “C’mon Spock, don’t tell me I’ve got you beat.”

“You beat me on average two out of every five times we engage in competition. It is not unprecedented,” Spock said, but his eyes were soft and relaxed. 

“Checkmate, then,” Jim said, and reached his hand across the table to grab Spock’s. His heart fluttered. The smell of incense that permeated the cabin was comforting and as he ran his fingers across the back of Spock’s hand, he couldn’t get over how right this felt. No matter how often he did it, it felt like this was how it should be. He and Spock, at each other’s sides like they belonged there. 

Spock looked up from where his eyes had fallen to examine his and Jim’s entwined hands. “I was actually weighing the merits of moving to a more comfortable location, Jim,” he said, his voice dropping, and Jim shivered. What a lucky son of a bitch he was to have snagged Spock.

“I would say the returns of a change of location would be very high, Mr. Spock,” Jim agreed, and then Spock was picking him up and taking him across the room, and Jim was enveloped in everything that was Spock. The smell, the feel of lithe muscles as he moved his hands under Spock’s uniform, and the bombardment of love from the skin on skin contact. 

As Spock turned his head to lower his mouth to Jim’s, the entire cabin felt as if it had turned on its side, and everything in front of him blurred.

“Spock!” Jim whispered, as he sat up and he took in the bleak gray colors of the cave, and the smell of Spock still surrounding him. 

Embarrassed, Jim realized he was clutching Spock’s shirt a little too tightly to his chest, and he gently set it back down, the image of Spock above him burned into his retinas, and he tried unsuccessfully to blink it away to keep his pants from getting uncomfortably tight. 

Spock gets into his mind once and suddenly he’s no better than a teenager with a crush. Pathetic, Jim thought, but he couldn’t help the warm feeling that was startlingly similar to what he’d felt that morning during the meld from settling in his chest.

Standing up and wincing at the soreness in his shoulder Jim walked outside the cave to where the real flesh and blood Spock was sitting cross legged on the ground with pieces of one communicator being bastardized as parts for the other device. “What’re you doing?” Jim asked, sitting on the opposite side of the rock Spock had repurposed as a makeshift desk.

“Attempting to use one communicator to raise the signal radius of the other,” Spock replied, gently twisting at the parts inside the back of the comm. 

“Will that work?” Jim asked, trying to get a rise out of Spock to distract him from the intimacy his mind had supplied him with.

“Under normal circumstances. Though seeing as we are currently separated from the Enterprise by an ion storm I’ve already provided you with accurate statistics as to the probability of its success,” Spock replied. Judging by the withering glance Spock shot him, Jim had achieved his goal. He could do banter with Spock. Banter was easy. Banter didn’t involve feelings. 

Jim held up his hands in mock surrender. “I apologize. Sometimes I ask too much of you.” 

If Vulcans could look scandalized, in that moment Spock was. “Did you rest well, Jim?” Spock asked, instead of honoring Jim’s statement with a response, which Jim supposed was fair. 

Somewhat unhelpfully, Jim’s mind brought him back to the dream he’d just awoken from, and he resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands. “I feel more rested than I have in the past month and a half on the Enterprise,” he admitted. “I was thinking about going and finding a little beach to relax on before the sun went down, though. Carpe diem and all that shit.” Jim debated asking his next question, not sure if close proximity to Spock would be conducive to clearing his head, but eventually settled on offering, “You can come with me. If you want, I mean. You don’t have to.”

Smooth, Jim, he thought.

“I would prefer not to leave this job unfinished.” Spock gestured to the comm parts littered in front of him. “I would be agreeable to joining you after I have completed it, however.”

“Awesome. I’m gonna follow the same path from this morning. Just keep following the downward slope.” Jim stood up and brushed the dirt off his pants. “If you need me, scream.” He winked, and before Spock had a chance to challenge him on the legitimacy of screaming as a form of communication he was heading away from the cave.

As Jim followed the path he remembered, his thoughts wandered back to Spock. It wasn’t that he was in denial about the fact that he felt something for Spock. He was more in denial about the fact that there was a fat chance in hell that Spock would ever give him the time of day as more than a close friend and colleague. He didn’t doubt that Spock cared for him. After Khan he could never doubt that. But whereas Uhura had been a nice complement to Spock in every way, Jim was all too human. Too illogical for him to ever be enough for Spock. Or maybe he was too much, and that was the problem. 

As he reached the point where grass turned into sand Jim took his boots and socks off, and reveled in the feel of his feet sinking into the sand. He imagined Bones yelling at him because of how gross the sand was, and then saw himself reminding Bones that he hadn’t seemed to care that time he’d had a chance to take Joanna to the beach when he’d been allowed to have her that one time Jocelyn had gone off planet. He smiled at the thought of the exasperated look that so often fell upon his friend’s face when in Jim’s presence.

Looking at the footprints he’d left behind him, Jim wondered if Spock would actually come join him on the beach. He figured he had about two hours before it would be too dark for him to get back safely, and if Spock wasn’t there by then he’d just go back to the cave. But when Jim’s mind supplied him with the image of Spock’s perfectly trimmed hair wet and all askew around his face, he realized he really wanted Spock to come join him. 

Idiot, he told himself, shaking his head and trying to erase the image. Don’t push your luck. Spock’s too good to be an experiment in seducing a Vulcan. He doesn’t deserve that. 

Jim wandered towards the edge of the water and felt it lap over his toes, willing Scotty to get them off this planet before he did something stupid. 

...

Spock set the reassembled communicator on the rock in front of him. Over the span of a few hours, he had made dozens of readjustments to the comm in an attempt to increase the radius of the signal, but had not come anywhere near to making contact with the Enterprise, which was floating somewhere inside the ion storm above them. He no longer had enough light to continue whether he wanted to or not. Despite the fact that Spock had started this endeavor knowing his chances of reaching the Enterprise were low, he could not help but feel a small weight of disappointment and failure settle over him. 

Choosing to ignore this, Spock stood up and decided to join Jim on the beach he had indicated was near the clearing they had found the plants in earlier in the day. Once he reached the clearing he began to carefully make his way down the uneven slope towards a sandy alcove in his line of sight. As he stepped onto the beach and left the sparse grass behind him, Spock was reminded of his former home on Vulcan. Blistering red sands as far as the eye could see, harsh sun beating down on the hot ground, Vulcans thriving in a climate that many humans would find uninhabitable. 

This sand was far from those sands, though, Spock thought, as he watched it shift under his shoes. Cool, white sand stretched along the bottom of the cliff further than he had been able to see from the top. On this side of the cliff, the water was calmer, lapping onto the shore before gently falling back. Having grown up on a desert planet, Spock was unnerved by large bodies of water, and this water stretched all the way to and beyond the horizon. Spock contained a shudder and shifted his attention to finding Jim. He noticed footprints in the sand heading down the long beach, and he followed, knowing that Jim would be at the end of the trail. 

It did not take long to find Jim. Spock came upon him after approximately five minutes of walking along the cliffside. He noticed his golden haired captain standing a foot or so into the water, pant legs rolled up to avoid getting them wet. Spock felt some of the tension in his shoulders release, not realizing how concerned he had been that Jim would injure himself. Jim was looking down at his feet, which were submerged in the water. Spock noted his shoes sitting atop the sand some distance away. 

“Jim,” Spock said, alerting him of his presence. Jim looked up at Spock. 

“Spock! I wasn’t sure you’d come.” Jim smiled. “Want to join me?”

Spock stepped a bit closer to the water’s edge, looking at Jim. “What are you doing?”

Jim looked down at his feet again. “Enjoying the sunset, playing with the fish.” He pointed towards the water at his feet. Spock looked where Jim’s gaze lay and felt some of the tension that had disappeared when he realized Jim was safe return. Many tiny, multicolored fish were swimming around Jim’s ankles and appeared to be nibbling at the hairs on his legs. 

“Jim, we do not know if the fish in these waters are hazardous,” Spock said uncertainly. He did not want to ruin Jim’s evening, but his Captain’s-- his friend’s-- safety was first priority. 

Jim shrugged. “It’s okay, I think. It only tickles. At least if I was allergic to them we’d probably know by now.”

Spock still looked very uncertain, but decided to not push the issue any further. 

“Shoes on a beach, Spock?” Jim teased. “Most people don’t do that.” 

Spock glanced down at his black Starfleet issue boots, then back up at Jim, a questioning look on his face. “I suppose I am not ‘most people’, then, Captain,” Spock answered smoothly, making Jim laugh. 

“You don’t have to take off your shoes if you don’t want to.” Jim looked back down at the fish swimming around his legs. “As long as you’re comfortable, then I’m happy.”

Spock noticed redness on Jim’s face, unsure if it was a blush or a tint from the setting sun. He decided to not question it. Before he could over think anything he decided to follow Jim’s advice and remove his shoes. He sat on the sand, well away from the lapping water, slipped off his boots, and then gently stuffed his socks into them before standing and placing them next to Jim’s. 

Spock was immediately grateful for the lack of shoes; the soft sand on bare feet was a pleasant feeling. Jim seemed to be avoiding Spock’s gaze, the redness still evident on his cheeks. He is blushing, Spock realized.

Jim called over his shoulder to Spock. “Come on in.”

Spock approached the water’s edge and looked skeptically at the dark waves. 

After a moment of silence, Jim looked at Spock. “You okay?”

Spock looked up and made eye contact with Jim. His heart did a small flip and he was reminded of how often this sensation had occurred since landing on the planet. He briefly considered writing a last will, then realized how illogical this thought was and ignored it. “I am…,” he began, unsure of Jim’s reaction if he admitted his fear outright. 

“What’s wrong?”

Jim was facing Spock now, his hands hanging by his sides, and a confused look on his face. Behind him, the sun was nearly below the horizon, and stars were beginning to shine brightly. 

Spock took a breath. “I suffer from thalassophobia,” he said matter-of-factly, succeeding in sounding indifferent. Vulcans do not lie. 

“Oh,” Jim said, and turned to looked out at the last bit of sun, then back at Spock. “Here, let me…”

Jim waded back to a position where the water only reached his ankles. He stopped there, a short distance from Spock, and smiled softly. “It’s only a couple inches. It’ll be okay.”

Spock felt the tips of his ears burn at the earnest emotion Jim was showing toward him. He hoped desperately that it was dark enough for Jim to not notice. Trusting Jim, which sometimes had mixed results, Spock silently rolled his pant legs up to below his knees and, before he lost all courage, stepped into the lukewarm water. He steadied his breathing and walked towards where Jim was standing, the water lapping around his bare ankles. His heart rate quickened.

Jim must have seen the discomfort evident in Spock’s body language, because he closed the distance between them and reached out a hand to his arm, but did not let it touch yet. It hovered hesitantly, and Jim made eye contact with Spock, silently asking for permission. Spock looked at the hand, and when Jim gently touched his bicep, he released a shaky breath he had not realized he had been holding. 

“Okay?” Jim asked quietly. Spock nodded, not knowing exactly what he was agreeing with. Illogical. Apparently satisfied, Jim dropped his hand back to his side, and they watched the last bit of sun disappear beneath the horizon. Bright, colorful stars stretched across the inky vast sky. 

Spock had calmed down more, and looked up at space. This is a lovely way to spend an evening, he decided, content at Jim’s side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed this chapter !! the next one will be out on wednesday and i think you'll all enjoy it there is very little angst 
> 
> but don't worry. there will be angst Soon
> 
> @audjolras and @illogicalimpulses on tumblr
> 
> thank you for reading and comments and kudos are appreciated !!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there's something poetic about the passage of time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that chapter summary makes this sound a lot more dramatic than it is but enjoy this collection of scenes as we build up to Drama
> 
> this chapter is very self indulgent bear with us 
> 
> also shoutout to sinna for bein chill with me having like 0 time to write this week you're the best
> 
> -audity

The next day when Jim awoke to find Spock once again standing guard at the entrance to the cave, he wandered out to stand next to him.

Looking up, Jim frowned. In the time since he and Spock had returned to the cave the night before after their beach excursion the clouds had covered the sky and the planet’s sun, and Jim was disappointed. “It was much nicer yesterday.”

“Indeed it was, but we must assume that, just as other planets we have visited, this planet must also have a changeable climate that results in different weather patterns from day to day. Based on much of the climate of Earth we were lucky to have two days without inclement weather.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t still be upset about it.”

Spock turned his head to look at Jim. “No, I suppose it does not.”

...

Later that afternoon, Jim had moved into a sunny spot outside the cave and was laying comfortably in the grass with his eyes closed.  _ God _ , his lips were dry, he thought to himself, running his fingers over the chapped skin. “Hey, Spock?” he yelled back in the direction of the cave.

“Yes, Jim?” Spock asked, coming over from where he had been examining some of the wildlife.

“How much water do we have left?”

“Not much, I am afraid. Without a definite timeline for our retrieval from this planet, it would be prudent for us to find a source of freshwater.”

“Is there not a purifier in the survival pack?” Jim sat up at that. Small portable purifiers had been standard issue in Starfleet survival packs since before his dad had joined. 

“I would remind you that while those purifiers are sufficient when it comes to taking toxins out of water, they do very little for the taste. If we were to extract water from the ocean there is a good chance it would still taste very much like saltwater, and I’m sure you would like to avoid that as much as I.”

Spock was right, Jim knew. He supposed it couldn’t be that hard to find a freshwater stream in the middle of a forest. “All else fails we can collect water in something. It still looks like the sky's gonna open up and drench us any second now.” Jim looked warily up at the clouds that had continued to gather since he had woken up that morning. He swore he could hear the waves crashing more aggressively than they had in the entire forty-eight hours he and Spock had been stranded, too. 

A breeze suddenly made Jim shiver. “Sometimes I really hate the weather,” he muttered.

“That is illogical, seeing as you cannot change it,” Spock said, though his tone was light.

“Spock, I’m not sure I’ve been logical a day in my life.”

“If your chess strategy is any indication, I am inclined to agree. Though, scientifically speaking, there had to have been at least a single point in your life where, whether it was intended or not, you were logical.” Spock turned to look at Jim, whose heart fluttered.

_ Pathetic, _ Jim told himself again, and almost imperceptibly shook his head at himself. “Your faith in me is overwhelming, really. Now come on, we need water, and I grew up in the midwest. These clouds could sit there for days without giving a drop of rain, and I’m not about to wait that long.”

“This planet is not where you grew up,” Spock said, though as Jim started to walk away, he followed dutifully. 

…

“Spock, I’m bored,” Jim said the next day, this time sitting in the lower branches of a tree.

Turning to look at his captain, Spock raised an eyebrow. “Jim, please do not fall.”

“I’ve been climbing trees since before I could walk, I’ll be fine.”

Spock didn’t bother commenting on the illogic of the statement. “Might I suggest finding some other plants fit for consumption? Finding enough to satisfy your voracious appetite might occupy you until Mr. Scott manages to beam us out.”

“I think you just called me fat, Spock.” Jim jumped down from the tree and frowned in Spock’s direction.

“No, I believe that is Dr. McCoy’s job as your attending physician. I was simply indicating that it could take time to collect other plants that would be palatable could take time.” 

“Bones does give me a hard time about my weight, doesn’t he?” Jim melodramatically patted his stomach. “But I still say you called me fat.” Jim reached out his hand, and Spock stared at it dumbly. “Well? I need your tricorder to make sure anything I find won’t send me into cardiac arrest or make me blow up like a balloon.”

“I was not aware any type of vegetation could cause someone’s heart to stop.”

“Okay, so maybe not cardiac arrest. But next to Bones you know the most about my allergies, and therefore you know the likelihood that something here will cause some sort of anaphylactic shock, and we don’t have any allergy hypos.” Jim continued to hold out one hand while the other rested on his waist. 

Spock begrudgingly removed the tricorder strap from his shoulder and handed it to Jim. 

“Don’t worry Spock. I’m not gonna break anything. I’m not gonna go that far, especially since we’ve only got the one comm. And the other times you’ve deigned to let me go out on my own I haven’t--”

“Jim,” Spock interrupted, “I am well aware you do not need my permission to leave the immediate vicinity of our shelter. I just do not wish for you to injure yourself, as you have a very high propensity towards just that. Just be careful.” Spock paused. “Please.”

“Of course, Spock,” Jim said, a fond sort of exasperation on his face. “I’ll be back.”

Then he was gone into the trees, and Spock did his best not to worry.  _ Vulcans do not worry _ .

He also did his best not to think about the darkening sky and the rising winds.

…

Spock sat on the floor of the cave, leaning against the cool rock. Jim had been searching for food for precisely forty-seven minutes and Spock was growing restless, hoping he had not gotten himself into any serious trouble as he found humans were wont to do. 

Then again, there was no other human quite like Jim Kirk. 

Spock was about to go out and look for the man himself when Jim’s face peered into the cave. “Hi, Spock.”

Spock’s released the tension that had again built in his shoulders. He really could not wait until he could meditate properly back on the Enterprise.

Or at least Spock relaxed until he realized Jim was soaking wet. “Jim. You are uninjured?”

Jim, seemingly oblivious of the fact that he was dripping onto the ground, stepped fully into the cave entrance and walked toward Spock, his arms wrapped around bundles of plants sporting what he perceived to be fruit. “Y’know, I don’t get injured every time I step away from your ever-so-watchful, protective gaze,” Jim joked, walking to Spock, who stood up to meet him. 

“I did not imply such,” Spock raised a brow at Jim. “And, as you are well aware, as your first officer, it is my duty to--”

“To make sure I don’t end up killing myself, yeah, I know, Spock,” Jim’s eyes flicked up to Spock then back down to the assorted vegetation in his arms. 

Spock inclined his head. “It is also my duty as your friend, Jim. Now, would you mind enlightening me as to why you are drenched?”

Jim smiled at that. “You’re partaking in the act of ‘friendship’ quite loosely, I’d say, Spock,” Jim joked. “Anyway, I found these other plants and then I heard water, so I went to investigate because we’re completely out of water, and I found this cute little stream. It was like someone had taken a picture straight out of a fairytale book.”

“Fairytale book?” 

“You know, like Hansel and Gretel, all those other Brothers Grimm tales. You had to have come across them at some point.” Jim looked at Spock with an expectant look.

“I believe my mother possessed a number of such stories. I am not very familiar with them.”

Jim shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. The point is it was picture perfect. And so I thought, hey, we haven’t showered in the however many days we’ve been here--”

“Two, Jim.”

“--and I probably smell gross, but you’re a paragon of chivalry so you wouldn’t have said anything, and I didn’t want to put you in that position. So I got in the water.”

“I have not noticed any particular stench emanating from your person.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not there. Or that it wouldn’t get worse. Anyway, I got in and left my clothes on the bank but I accidentally splashed them. The water wasn’t even that deep. But I couldn’t just waltz back in here naked -- I do have some sense of propriety -- so I figured I didn’t have a choice but to put them back on.”

Before Spock could reply, Jim held out the fruits and vegetables he had found. “Take a look. Anything of interest?”

Distantly, Spock wondered if it was possible for one to get whiplash from a conversation so abruptly changing topic, but instead of trying to challenge Jim, he simply nodded at the pile. “As long as it does not poison us, it should be adequate. Thank you, Jim.”

…

That evening before the sun had set, Jim and Spock sat on either side of the fire, eating the veggies and fruits to their fill. Jim, however, looked quite miserable.

“Jim? Has something upset you?” Spock asked in the middle of their comfortable silence. Jim had been sitting with his knees tucked to his chest, leaning his chin on them. 

“Hm? I’m just hungry,” He shifted tired eyes up to Spock, looking through the licking flames of the small fire. Spock felt tingling warmth bloom in his chest and side. He knew Jim was fully capable of taking care of himself, but the past three days on this planet had awoken in him a deep desire to protect him. Spock would love to look deeper into his mind, to unravel him, to discover Jim, hold him, keep him safe--

“Spock?” Jim asked, half-asleep. “You okay, man? You looked sort of out of it for a second.”

Spock blinked. The flames of the fire were most likely tiring him, causing him to have illogical thoughts of his Captain. That must be it. “Yes. I am perfectly fine.” He paused, and then added, “Thank you.” Then, remembering Jim’s response to his earlier question, he frowned. “You are still hungry, even after our dinner?”

Jim smiled apologetically. “Hungry for something other than leaves and berries, I mean. It’s not a big deal,” Jim shrugged, eyes on the fire. Spock’s heart dropped. “I’ve never, like, gone  _ this _ long without something other than rabbit food. No offense. I mean, I’ll be fine, but… I...” 

Jim’s speech faltered as Spock suddenly stood and grabbed the bottom hem of both the thermal shirt and his Starfleet issue undershirt on either side, and then pulled them up and dropped them with uncharacteristic carelessness onto the ground. 

Jim gaped, suddenly wide awake, at the bare-chested Vulcan in front of him. He unashamedly enjoyed the view and in particular was drawn to the way the orange firelight danced across porcelain skin. Distantly, he wondered when the last time that part of Spock’s body had seen sunlight was. 

Spock grabbed his phaser and tricorder from where they rested on the floor and promptly strode out of the cave without sparing Jim so much as a glance. It was probably for the best, since Jim didn’t seem in a position to do anything other than stare.

Jim sat in silence and shock for an indeterminable amount of time. Had he said something to upset Spock? But why would he taken off his shirt? Nothing made sense and he held his head in his hands, trying to sort through the shock and confusion clouding his mind. 

Jesus. 

Jim thought back to his dream from a couple days ago. That thought combined with the picture still burned into his retinas of Spock shirtless was bound to lead him into trouble. Especially when he didn’t know when Spock would be back. But goddamn. How did Spock have any time to work out? He was always working or meditating. Although, Jim thought, as much as he might like to be, he was definitely not around Spock at all times. 

The image of Spock sparring with someone came unbidden into his mind. Spock, shirtless, all hard lines and deliberate moves as he worked around his opponent. Then the opponent had Jim’s face, and he was pinned under Spock, and Spock was holding him firmly against the ground, their hips dangerously close, and Jim couldn’t tell if he was imagining the desperate panting coming from himself or not. And then fantasy-Spock’s lips were on his and Jim was palming at his pants.

“ _ Shit, _ ” he whispered.  _ Now is not the time. _ With a monumental effort, Jim stood up and walked around the cave, silently mouthing basic multiplication tables to himself.

When Spock returned, Jim was seated next to the fire again, and he blinked up blankly at the sight before him. There was Spock,  _ shirtless _ , with what looked like a wild pig slung over his shoulder, red blood dotted lightly on his chest. 

“Spock, what-- what?  _ What _ ?” Jim stared open-mouthed. Spock inclined his head, and Jim could  _ swear _ he saw the corners of that mouth upturned in a smirk, or the closest he’d ever seen Spock get to one.

“You were dissatisfied with the limited selection of food that has been presented to us thus far, and it was a logical decision to ensure you are, at the very least, content with our continued stay on this planet.”

Jim’s face was frozen in a look of disbelief, and he eventually broke into giggles. Spock suddenly had vivid flashbacks of the behavior of the crew that had inadvertently landed Jim and himself on this planet in the first place.

“Spock!” Jim smiled up at him. “I can’t believe-- you  _ tore off your shirt and shot a wild pig _ for me?”

Spock inclined his head. “I did not ‘tear off my shirt’. I removed it in a traditional fashion.”

Jim shook his head, trying to will away any imagery of Spock forcefully tearing off his uniform shirt in the heat of the moment. Or tearing off Jim’s shirt. Literally ripping it to pieces. Jim swallowed visibly.

“I’m… well, thank you for… this,” Jim gestured vaguely at the pig and tried desperately to suppress his laughter to avoid unsettling Spock. Spock’s heart fluttered. 

Since the heart fluttering only seemed to occur when around Jim, Spock deduced that it had to be a positive sensation. He no longer felt the need to worry about his last will and testimony.

“Well,” Jim said, trying to forcibly remove the image of Spock standing displayed in a way that probably constituted stark nakedness for a Vulcan, stood up and moved over to where they’d stored the spit after last cooking the plants they’d cut down on the first day, “give me your pocketknife and let’s do this.”

…

After they’d eaten, Jim some of the meat, and Spock more of the vegetables, Jim certainly felt much fuller than he had before when all they’d had to eat, and Spock couldn’t help feeling a certain air of satisfaction that he had managed to make Jim this pleased.

Eventually, Jim sat up from where he’d laid back on the ground, still using Spock’s shirt as a pillow. And Spock could not deny he derived some sort of satisfaction from that.

...

Jim awoke the next morning to streams of pale sunlight and the calming melody of bird calls. He’d had one of his first dreamless nights since they’d landed on this damn planet, and felt well rested, but kept his eyes closed and breathed in the cool dawn air evenly for a moment and took in the novelty of having nowhere to be. Slowly, he stretched his legs out from his curled position on the cave floor and opened his heavy-lidded eyes. His gaze fell on Spock, who was resting on the opposite site of the cave. Spock had fashioned for himself some kind of bed out of clothes from the bag he’d originally intended to bring with him for however long he planned to be on the planet while they had their vacation. 

Jim watched Spock’s chest rise and fall minutely with each slow breath. Jim had come to enjoy the time alone with his friend. A part of him was still hoping Scotty could get them back to the ship as fast as possible, or Jim was likely to make a complete fool of himself with his absurd puppy crush on his first officer. Jim shifted on top of the thermal blanket and moved into a sitting position. Quietly, so as not wake Spock, Jim had some of the water he’d retrieved from the creek he’d found the day before and ate a meager breakfast of fruit and some of the cooked meat from the boar thing Spock had literally gone out and caught for Jim. Saying Jim was still in shock over that was a bit of an understatement. 

Just as Jim was making his way out of the cave, prepared to spend his day climbing trees again, he heard a quiet shifting behind him and turned to see Spock stretching slowly on his matt of clothes, eyes shut, and it was startlingly similar to the way Jim remembered the barn cats back in Iowa waking up. “Jim…?”

Jim felt himself blush. He’d never expected Spock to breathe his name like that, voice soft, breakable.  _ Control yourself, dumbass, _ he told himself, clearing his throat self-consciously. “Yeah, Spock, I’m right here. You okay?”

Jim noticed a faint sage tint to the Vulcan’s cheeks and tips of his ears from sleep. “Where are you going?” He asked in that same voice, ignoring Jim’s question, then cleared his throat with a frown. Heat went straight to Jim’s groin.  _ This is not the  _ time _ , libido.  _

“Uh…” Jim couldn’t focus.  _ Get a fucking grip. _ “I was just going out for a walk.”

Spock finally pushed himself into a sitting position, blearily gazing at Jim like he was trying to stare into his soul. His hair was tousled and Jim had the almost irresistible urge to touch it. Jim suddenly realized how strange it was for him to think that anyone, even Spock, could wake up looking as professional as the science officer did on a day to day basis. “I will join you,” Spock announced, voice regaining its usual timbre. He grabbed his phaser from where it lay next to him, then stood up and brushed off his shirt. “Have you eaten?”

“Yeah. You should eat before we go, or take something with you,” Jim suggested.

Spock nodded his agreement and carefully selected some of the fruits before following Jim out of the cave. 

Jim and Spock walked shoulder to shoulder, not unlike the way they walked through the corridors of the Enterprise. Except this time, they walked slowly, taking their time, and making much more relaxed conversation. 

“Is there anywhere specific you are planning to venture to?” Spock asked before biting into a strange, oval-shaped blue fruit. 

“I was thinking the clearing,” Jim said, looking out at the sun rising over the vast ocean. The sunlight was a pleasant surprise compared to the growing clouds they’d been facing the past couple of days. Spock followed his gaze and shuddered at the idea that they could have landed in the ocean instead of on dry land. “The one with the flowers.”

Spock raised a brow at Jim. “There is no other clearing on this planet with which I am acquainted, unless you are including the freshwater river you discovered yesterday.”

Jim side eyed Spock. “Well, excuse me for specifying.”

“Indeed,” Spock replied easily before finishing off the blue fruit, and Jim grinned to himself. 

Once they had reached the clearing, Jim sat down close to where he had been sitting during their first full day on Minshara III. Then he got an idea.

“Spock, want to learn how to make flower crowns now?” Jim asked, eyes lighting up. Spock was still standing and cast a reluctant and somewhat bewildered look at the flowers. 

“I still do not understand their purpose,” Spock said, but sat next to Jim on the unusually soft grass regardless. Jim got on his hands and knees to reach forward and pick some flowers, low at the stems.

“You can pick whatever color flowers you want in your crown, but snap them low on the stem so you can tie them more easily,” Jim explained, and Spock dubiously began to gather his own flowers. Spock had chosen gold and blue flowers, and Jim picked purple and white ones. 

Jim couldn’t help smiling. This was a  _ really  _ cute idea. He wanted a photo of this. He wanted polaroids of this, goddammit. “Spock, this is gonna be really cute.”

Spock blinked at the flowers in his hands. “I will defer to your good judgement, Jim,” he answered, but Jim noticed the slight upturning of a corner of his mouth that he had learned to identify as a smile. 

The morning sunlight shone warmly through the trees and the two quietly wove flowers together. Once Spock had successfully made his first one, Jim placed it on top of his black hair for him with a bright smile. Spock did not look as amused. 

A little while later, Jim noticed Spock had slowly lost the original twisting pattern. “Here, let me help,” he offered, scooting towards towards Spock, and accidentally brushing his fingers against the backs of Spock’s hands. Spock pulled his hands back as if he were burned, staring wide-eyed at Jim, cheeks tinted a light shade of green. 

“Woah, you okay? Sorry,” Jim apologized, hands up in a motion meant to let Spock know that he meant no harm. “You okay?” He asked again, concerned. He hadn’t expected Spock to react so severely to an accidental touch. 

“I apologize, Jim. The unexpected dichotomy of your body temperature against my skin simply startled me.” Spock took a deep breath and willed the blush on his cheeks to go down. If he had not become distracted by Jim’s hands while simultaneously tying his own flowers together, they would not be in this situation.

Jim didn’t look convinced, but knew Spock wouldn’t tell him anything else, so he went back to working on his third flower crown since they’d sat down in the clearing. He maintained the nearer distance to Spock though, worried about his reaction to the contact. Jim had been near Spock the entire time they’d been stuck there. Spock had  _ picked him up _ . God, why did this have to be so confusing?

“Do you miss the Enterprise?” Jim asked eventually, trying to pull their conversation back into some sort of safe territory.

Spock was carefully tying the stems of dainty light blue flowers together as he answered, “It would be illogical to attach sentiment to an object-- in this case, the Enterprise-- seeing as it is not sentient and could not reciprocate the emotion.”

Jim rolled his eyes and scooted closer to Spock, letting their knees touch, and eyeing Spock for any signs of discomfort. “Come on. You’ve gotta miss hanging out with the crew, making discoveries, journeying into the unknown. Right?”

Spock’s hands stalled in his flower crown making and he glanced first at Jim’s knee, and then at his face. “I am doing all of that currently.” 

Jim couldn’t help the smile on his face. “You know what I meant. Besides, I’m sure you’ve gotten bored of me already. Or annoyed at me.” 

“Your company is more than sufficient, Jim,” Spock said, and looked down at his hands. 

Jim gave Spock a devious grin, and Spock felt a small alarm bell go off in his head. Reaching forward Jim grabbed a bright white flower, and before Spock could do anything to stop it Jim was reaching towards the side of Spock’s head to tuck the flower behind one of his pointed ears. He was thankful that Jim’s subsequent fit of giggles gave him enough time to regulate the blush that he felt spreading across his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time: there's a storm coming
> 
> @audity and illogical impulses on tumblr
> 
> thank you for reading!!! comments and kudos are always appreciated


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you look closely you'll see a lot of angst in the distance

The next day, Jim and Spock woke to stormy skies that had returned since their excursion to the clearing. Wind whipped the leaves on trees, and Jim could feel a headache coming on from oddly foreboding, frantic bird calls. Jim had the same feeling he sometimes got before a tornado hit in Iowa. 

Jim stepped outside of the cave to see Spock sitting cross-legged a few feet back from the cliff edge. He walked over, hands in pockets as his hair whipped in the wind. Rather than disturbing Spock, who who looked like he was meditating, Jim observed him from a distance. The man looked more disheveled than Jim had ever seen him. His black hair, usually straight and well groomed, was unkempt and pieces were skewed in all directions. Jim noticed dots of dried blood from the pig he’d killed, which had happened days ago, on the pale skin of his neck.  _ He should really get clean _ , Jim thought.  _ He can’t be comfortable like that. _

“Spock?” Jim said a little later, when he looked like he was coming out of his meditation. Spock blinked open his eyes and, after a moment of gathering himself, looked up at Jim with a furrowed brow.

“Yes, Jim?” Spock answered politely, distantly wondering how long Jim had been standing there. 

Putting on his best Captain Kirk voice, Jim looked pointedly at his first officer. “You’re going to wash up. Now.” 

“...Indeed?” Spock blinked. Jim sighed, grabbed Spock’s arm and dragged him to his feet. 

“Come on. You’re pretty disgusting, to be honest, Spock,” Jim admitted, pulling the dismayed man behind him into the cave. “Get some clean clothes and maybe something to use in place of a towel.”

Flustered, Spock did as told, and followed Jim out of the cave and into the woods behind it. “We are going to the river you discovered.” Spock stated. He seemed to slump as he walked behind Jim, less than thrilled about his apparently inevitable washing session. 

As they made their way towards the river, Jim suddenly remembered Spock’s thalassophobia.  _ Is that why he hasn’t washed yet? He must usually take sonic showers. It’s okay. You’ll be right there, and it’s a barely a river.  _

If Jim felt a small amount of guilt in forcing Spock to do this, he didn’t show it. They came upon the river, and it was, as Jim had described, picturesque. There was a small waterfall coming over the edge of a short cliff face, which Spock supposed could be used in place of a showerhead. The undoubtedly freshwater river sparkled clearer than the ocean that they had visited previously. The quiet running of the water was accompanied by the croaking of frogs and the chirping of crickets. Spock could see the sky dimly through the canopy of trees above them, and the dark clouds that had gathered there were more than a little foreboding.

“Alright. I’ll just…uh...sit with my back to you and keep watch.” Jim motioned toward the wide tree he was standing next to, not quite sure what to do now that they had arrived.  _ This is awkward. _

Spock, looking even paler than usual, nodded and moved toward the river. “I will call for you when I have finished.” 

Jim tried to smile as if he felt that would reassure Spock, but it felt more like a grimace and probably didn’t do much considering he now had his back to Jim. “Okay, I’ll be right here, then.”

Jim sat with his back to the tree, facing away from the river, and tucked his knees up to his chest. Staring out at the direction they’d come in, he realized how rude he’d been in the past few moments. He had stared at Spock while he meditated which was probably some sort of taboo, then forced Spock to jump right into water, practically throwing his phobia in his face. 

Jim put his head in his hands. Spock had been always been nothing but kind to him, disregarding that one time he’d almost killed Jim and then launched him onto a frozen wasteland of a planet, where he was nearly eaten by the wildlife. But Jim had provoked him, and it had all worked out in the end. Jim recalled all the times he’d been a complete asshole to Spock and cringed inwardly. Damn, it was a wonder Spock hadn’t tried to transfer ships yet. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a light splash, and he almost turned his head to find its source before remembering that  _ Spock is naked in that river oh my god _ . Jim stretched his legs out, forcing himself to breathe. He wondered how long it would take for him to figure out what would make Spock forgive him. 

_ You could kiss him _ , said a very unhelpful voice in his head that he realized was his own. He shook his head. Why was he so obsessed with an uptight asshole with a bowl cut? Jim immediately took that back.  _ He’s not  _ that  _ uptight. He can be an asshole, but he’s nothing compared to me. And he makes the hair work.  _

Jim blushed. He was not helping the situation at hand. 

“Spock? You alright?” He called back over his shoulder, hoping Spock hadn’t passed out from fear and drowned himself in the process.

After a pause that almost lasted long enough for Jim to jump into the water after Spock, he heard a response. “I am… fine,” called back a quiet, uncertain voice. A shaking voice? Jim couldn’t really tell from his position. 

“‘Fine’ has variable definitions, Spock,” Jim called back, concerned. 

There was silence from the river except for the crashing of the waterfall, and after a couple moments of no answer from Spock, Jim grew more concerned and, without thinking, turned his head to make sure he was okay.

Spock was standing up in the river, his back turned to Jim’s position.  _ Shit _ . Jim looked at the lines of Spock’s back. At the corded muscle that was practically burned into his memory after the other night. Water was dripping down his back, and Jim’s mouth felt very,  _ very _ dry. Jim’s gaze drifted farther downward, and he got a quick look at Spock’s ass before his guilt got the better of him and he turned back around, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes almost painfully.

“I am decent,” Spock said after a couple moments, so quietly that Jim nearly missed it. He stood up and quickly brushed off his clothes, trying to look casual despite the war he felt had just occurred inside his head. 

Jim turned and the smile he’d plastered on dropped. “Damn, are you okay? You look really shaken.”

Spock stood uncertainly in his change of clothes, damp hair dripping water onto his clean uniform shirt every few seconds. “I am fine, Jim,” he replied, but the shaking in his voice betrayed him. 

“You’re shaking, Spock.” He really shouldn’t have made Spock do this.

“...Indeed. I did previously mention, I believe, my phobia,” Spock said in response, looking somewhere past Jim’s shoulder. 

Jim felt something break in his chest. “You didn’t think to tell me how bad it was? Jesus, Spock. If you’d told me how nervous you were, I wouldn’t have dreamed of bringing you out here.” 

Spock fixed Jim with a cold stare. “In our current situation, it was logical to sterilize myself to the best of my ability using the resources provided. It was unnecessary to cause you any worry.” 

Feeling a bit put-off, Jim shook his head and turned away, running a hand down his face. “Come on, let’s go back.” 

Face unreadable, Spock followed Jim back toward the cave. 

When they got back, Spock wordlessly folded his dirty clothes and set them next to his bags on the floor. Jim stood uncertainly while Spock sat in the cave, staring at the opposite wall.  _ How could he fix this? _

Jim made up his mind. He pulled up the thermal blanket he’d been sleeping on and walked over to Spock. “Hey. I’m really sorry. I watched you while you were meditating, I pushed you around, I made you uncomfortable and forgot about your phobia.”  _ I saw you naked. _ Jim sighed, holding the blanket. “I’ve been the asshole that kids’ parents warn them about and I feel awful.” 

“You have been… inconsiderate,” Spock agreed, refusing to meet Jim’s eyes.

“Fuck, yeah, I know. Spock, I’m really sorry.” Jim bit the inside of his cheek and looked down at him. 

Spock shivered against the cold just enough for Jim to notice. “It is of no consequence.”

Before Spock could react, Jim lay the black thermal blanket across Spock’s shoulders, wrapping it around him loosely. Spock looked up at him, and the look in his eyes was as close to confusion as Jim had ever seen. 

“You’re cold, just… use that for now,” Jim murmured, walking out of the cave without waiting to hear a response. The winds were really picking up now, and Jim got his fair share of sand in the face on his way to the beach near the clearing. 

He stood on the sand and pulled out their remaining, non-cannibalized comm, staring at it. Suddenly, a surge of doubt filled him. How would the Enterprise ever get them back? Sure the ion storm would pass, but how long would it take? Jim realized that Spock hadn’t given an estimation as to how long they’d both be stuck here. He fought the urge to throw the comm as far as he could into the dark ocean; as useless as it seemed, having the comm was the only way for Scotty to get them back. Instead, he dropped the comm in the sand next to him, sat down defeatedly, and glanced out at the thrashing waves. There was definitely a storm coming.

…

Jim wasn’t sure how long he stayed at the beach before it got too dark and the wind too strong for him to get back safely, but he knew that he hadn’t been sleeping nearly long enough when he heard an obscenely loud clap of thunder and wind whistling through the opening of the cave.  _ What the fuck? _ Jim looked around the cave as best he could in the dim light provided him by occasional lightning strikes. Spock was still lying where he had been when Jim had returned earlier, but he looked much more relaxed now, as if he’d let himself drift into sleep. Jim’s mind wandered back to the recent uncomfortable situation with Spock. 

_ Did Vulcans have nightmares?  _ Jim wondered. Even if they didn’t, Spock might, what with the whole half-human thing. What if Jim had caused Spock nightmares? The guilty feeling from after the creek reared its ugly head, and Jim shook his head.  _ Not now. _

Mind moving back into survival mode, Jim examined what supplies they had left. They were going to be stuck in this cave until the storm passed, that much was certain. He figured they probably had enough food, and if they needed water they could catch some just outside the cave. There was no way in hell Scotty could beam them out through this. The lightning wouldn’t cause as much interference as an ion storm, but it was still dangerous. Jim had spent enough away missions drenched and huddled in an alcove to know Scotty wouldn’t risk it unless it was life or death. 

_ Shit. _ Jim’s breathing quickened, and he frantically moved his hands around his feet where he’d been laying.  _ Where the fuck was the comm? _ He could have sworn he’d picked the damn thing up when he’d finally stopped wallowing in self pity earlier. He wasn’t going to be the reason Spock had to stay on this planet any longer. He’d find the comm or they’d have to wait for a full-on rescue mission and Jim was not going to let that happen.

Dubiously, Jim looked back outside the cave. The rain was still coming down strong, but not quite like it had been ten minutes ago when he’d woken up. After digging through the survival pack for a flashlight, Jim stood up and moved towards the mouth of the cave.

“Jim?” he heard Spock ask just as he began to feel rain hit his face.

Knowing Spock wouldn’t let this go, Jim stopped. “Yeah?”

“Do you intend to go somewhere? Because if so, I must heavily advise against it.” Spock’s voice became clearer as his concern for Jim invaded his consciousness.

“I’ve just gotta go grab something, Spock. I’ll be right back.” Jim really, really hoped the waves hadn’t reached as far up on the beach as where he could remember the comm was.

“Seeing as Dr. McCoy seems to be one of the few people who can talk you out of such idiotic ideas as going outside in what is, for all intents and purposes, a hurricane, I’ll attempt to imitate his parlance, and call that bullshit.” Jim dimly saw Spock stand up.

_ Close enough to the correct usage, _ Jim thought,  _ but I’d listen to you before I’d listen to Bones anytime, Spock. _ Deciding that in this case truth was probably his best option, Jim sighed. “Okay, honesty is the best policy, and whatever. I left the comm down on the beach earlier when you were hanging out here after the, uh, river.” Jim looked for any signs of discomfort from Spock, but saw only concern his his friend’s eyes. “I’ve gotta get it Spock. If we lose that we could be stranded for any number of extra days while they launch a full search and rescue. I can’t leave it down there. I’ll be fast. I’ve got a flashlight,” Jim said, though his half hearted attempt at reassurance fell flat. 

“I will accompany you,” Spock said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world, and Jim was touched, really.

“But, Spock. If you were freaked out by the beach when it was calm imagine the shit show that’s happening down there in the middle of whatever the hell this is.” 

“Regardless,” Spock said, and Jim could hear the thinly veiled mask of calm that had settled over Spock’s voice, “It is logical for me to come with you. I have superior night vision, and even with a flashlight you will be hard pressed to find such a small object when it could have travelled any distance from where you originally left it.” Spock paused, as if considering what he was going to say next. “And, Jim,” he said quietly, “I know you will be there to protect me.”

Dimly, Jim realized that if this was some sort of chick flick or whatever his knees would buckle and he and Spock would probably have some long, drawn out eye contact, but as it was, Jim simply let that feeling of trust wash over him and he took a deep breath before walking out of the cave, the reassuring sound of Spock’s footsteps behind him until they were drowned out by the strong wind and rain.

It was pointless to attempt conversation as they headed down to the beach. Jim focussed on putting one foot in front of the other, and keeping his breathing even.  _ A hood would be nice right now, _ he thought as water slid down his neck through his exposed collar, and he resisted the urge to shiver. It had to be worse for Spock. Why the hell had he volunteered to do this?

“It’s much darker than I imagined,” Jim said loudly, trying to project his voice as they reached the minimal cover of an alcove near the edge of the beach. “The flashlight isn’t doing shit, is it?” Jim said more to himself, gesturing in front of him, where he could only see about five feet worth of sand. “Follow me, and I’ll show you where I was earlier.”

When a bolt of lightning flashed, it was obvious the waves were three times as tall as Jim was, and they didn’t stop coming. As soon as one wave broke another one followed right behind, and the with the higher water levels, the beach seemed much smaller, and much more dangerous than it had earlier in the week, or that afternoon. 

Spock, hair matted and askew from the torrential rain and winds, clenched his jaw and set his face, and Jim was in awe of the control he had over his body in the face of whatever kind of personal hell Spock’s mind had concocted for him as he looked out into the rain and the jagged waves. Jim took that as an invitation to move, and as the rain continued to bite at his face, his spirits fell. They could be out here for hours and still not find anything, let alone a single comm. Jim just hoped that maybe they’d get lucky and the flashlight would reflect off the silver plated surface of the thing. 

Jim’s spirits dropped below sea level when he reached the spot he’d been earlier. The communicator wasn’t there. “SHIT,” he yelled, denial and anguish washing over him, and resisted the urge to throw the flashlight down. 

Then, Spock was very close to him. “Jim,” he said, “Perhaps the higher tide has drawn the communicator closer to the edge of the water.”

“Maybe,” Jim not-quite-yelled back. “Come on then.” As he started to move forward, turning the flashlight from side to side as he went, Jim nervously eyed the ever encroaching, swirling water. He hoped Spock knew he could go back whenever he wanted. 

Then, before Jim could dwell on that thought any longer, the water was suddenly very, very close and he felt Spock try to grab onto him for support, though as Jim was dragged down onto his ass almost immediately afterwards, the action was somewhat ineffective. Dark salt water flooded over them and violently pushed and tugged them below the surface. Panic shot through Jim.  _ Spock can’t fucking swim _ . Instinctively, Jim reached out to grab onto Spock, and as he blinked against the salt water that was invading his eyes he felt a wad of fabric secure in his hand, and he held on for dear life. 

Hollowly, Jim realized he and Spock were being pulled farther out into the water, and Jim tried to pull Spock closer to him, but  _ damn, _ he hadn’t realized how heavy Spock was. Fucking Vulcans. Jim’s head broke through the surface of the churning water and he inhaled, pulling Spock up to make sure he could breathe. 

“HANG ON, SPOCK,” Jim yelled, as he managed to bring Spock closer to his chest, trying not to choke as another wave washed over him.  _ Fuck _ . Spock was eerily immobile against Jim’s body, but Jim couldn’t do anything about it until he got them back to the beach. With that thought spurring him onward, Jim kicked his legs as hard as he could in the direction of the cliffs he could barely make out through the saltwater in his eyes, incoming waves pushing him along. 

For the next duration of time Jim did nothing but focus on the weight of Spock’s body against his chest and the kicking of his feet against the water. Later he would realize much of what allowed them to get back to the shore was just luck. They’d caught the right wave and ridden it back to relative safety. In the moment all his mind could supply him with was,  _ Damn, you’re gonna be sore later. _

The relief that flooded over Jim when he finally felt his feet touch wet sand again was indescribable. He dropped to his hands and knees and coughed up salt water, eyes watering from the slightly painful sensation. Immediately after, he turned to where Spock lay, but whatever quip he had felt compelled to say died in his throat when he realized that  _ Spock was not breathing. _

“Son of a bitch,” Jim whispered, and, as he saw the waves rushing toward them again, hooked his arms under Spock’s shoulders and dragged them to the small alcove they’d talked in when they’d first reached the beach. Before he could think too hard about it, Jim was doing chest compressions, thankful that this was one of the few medical procedures that didn’t differ between Vulcans and humans. 

_ Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty. _ Jim reached the end of his first set of chest compressions, and before he could over think anything,  _ Spock’s  _ life _ was on the line dammit, _ he moved his hands to hold open Spock’s mouth and placed his own mouth on top and breathed deeply twice, before moving his hands back to Spock’s chest, starting to count again.  _ Mouth to mouth isn’t all that sexy,  _ Jim’s mind supplied him, but he pushed the thought away.  _ Not now _ .

“Spock,” Jim said, his breathing labored as he pushed in on Spock’s sternum, “I swear to God, if you don’t wake up, I will kill you myself. No, that’s a lie. I couldn’t do that. These chest compressions aren’t even gonna work. And I’m real sorry I kissed you but it’s kind of in the interest of your survival. I’m probably breaking all kinds of Vulcan rules right now, sorry for that, too. But,  _ God, _ Spock, if this is what it takes for you to survive I don’t care. I think I might love you, y’know. With your stupid bowl cut, and pointed ears, and everything about you that  _ shouldn’t _ be attractive but  _ is _ . I want to be with you for the rest of my life, I think, but right now I’d settle for you just  _ waking the fuck up _ .” Jim paused his rambling to lean down and give Spock two more artificial breaths before sitting back up.

“Shit, you’ve probably got water that you’re choking on. I should probably turn you on your side. Sorry if this is the wrong thing to do. I wish Bones were here. You know he doesn’t actually hate you. He’s actually listened to me talk about you so much I think he figured out I like you before I even figured out I like you. I can score top of my class in every test the Academy offers but I can’t figure out that I want to make out with my First Officer. Bet that’s not in any of the cultural sensitivity courses.” Jim continued on with his nonsensical babbling until Spock started to convulse. 

“Yeah, babe, just like that, come on. Spock, you’re going to make it or I don’t know if I will.  _ Please. _ ” Jim, at a loss for what else to do while he essentially watched Spock throw up, traced spirals into the back of Spock’s shirt until he stopped shaking, at which point Jim became overly aware of the noises around him. The wind and the rain spattering around him that he’d stopped noticing when he’d been forced to consider Spock’s survival. 

Moving his hand to Spock’s arm, Jim tried to do whatever Spock had done with the mind meld after Jim had woken up with his nightmare their first full day on Minshara III. It was probably a wasted effort, but there wasn’t anything else Jim could do, and he felt so helpless. “You okay?” he asked after a while, and Spock nodded weakly. “I’m so fucking sorry. I should have just left the comm as a loss. You’re so much more important. Spending extra days on this planet wouldn’t have been that bad with you.”

“It is okay, Jim,” Spock said quietly.  _ Too quietly,  _ Jim thought.

“Come on, we’ve gotta get you back,” Jim said, but before he’d even finished his sentence, Spock’s eyes were closing. Jim’s heart rate started to rise again, but after his hands found Spock’s pulse and he felt that Spock was still breathing he was at a loss. Spock was alive, sure, but how the hell was he supposed to get him back to the cave now? His muscles were already screaming from pulling him out of the water, but it was no less than Spock would do for him. They sure as hell couldn’t stay in the alcove they were in.

With a resigned sigh, and steeling himself, Jim managed to sling Spock over his shoulders into a fireman's carry, and headed out into the pelting rain back to dry shelter that awaited them at the cave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for that tbh but after the self indulgent chapter that was chapter 6 we had to do SOMETHING
> 
> on tumblr @audjolras and @illogicalimpulses
> 
> next chapter is the fix it chapter ;))))
> 
> kudos and comments are always appreciated!!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things comes to a head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm going to formally apologize in advance for all of this tbh

All Spock registered when he woke up was a throbbing pain in his stomach, which he did his best to regulate without entering a meditative state. Sitting up from the floor, he rubbed his temples, something he remembered had become a habit for his mother, especially as Spock grew older and somewhat more petulant. In that respect, he had been a very human teenager. 

“Spock?” he heard Jim ask from across the cave, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant, and the best word Spock could use to describe the feeling it evoked was disconcerting. When he was used to the commanding voice of a starship captain anything other than boisterous confidence was liable to be disconcerting, he supposed. 

“Yes?” Spock carefully kept his voice even, not yet having wrapped his mind around what had transpired in the last twenty-four Earth hours.

Jim opened and closed his mouth, not unlike a fish out of water, before he weakly replied with, “You okay?”

“I have certainly felt better,” Spock acknowledged, subtly avoiding his gaze. “I must go meditate. I will inquire after you later, Captain.” He saw the hurt that flashed across Jim’s face at using the title instead of the nickname, but Spock needed some distance in this moment, and that was a way to ensure that Jim understood that.

Giving Jim a stiff nod, Spock made his way out of a cave to a spot he believed would give him the quiet he needed to sort through the past day. He would face Jim when he had, colloquially put, come up with a game plan.

…

_ Fucking idiot, _ Jim cursed himself as he looked down at the ground from the top of the tree he’d climbed. He was gonna take up with Starfleet the possibility of putting in some sort of jungle gym obstacle course thing on the Enterprise. Climbing was relaxing to him, although in this instance it hadn’t actually done much for his mood. He’d pissed off Spock. He’d basically shown that he couldn’t stand to be on this planet with him any longer, which was the opposite of true, really. He’d spend forever on this planet with Spock if he needed to, Enterprise be damned. 

Spock had trusted Jim to not let anything happen to him, and Jim nearly let him die. Because that screams true love and devotion, it really does.  _ Idiot. _

It was taking every ounce of control Jim had to not run after Spock and try and find where he had gone to meditate. The only good thing to come out of the storm last night was that the sky finally cleared, and there was nothing at all ominous looking on the horizon. The picturesque woodland landscape wasn’t all that picturesque anymore, though. No trees had fallen over; it hadn’t been quite that bad, but the beautiful trees that had been standing tall looked less impressive with branches littering the ground around them, and their leaves thinned from the wind. 

Jim needed to do something. In classic Jim Kirk fashion, it had to be something big. Not that he had a lot of supplies on this planet. He had food, he supposed. The thermal blanket might make a passable picnic blanket, and as long as they didn’t get too close to the water the area next to the river made for a damn romantic picture. 

Did Jim want to go for that? The romantic apology with imaginary candles that he would have had if they were on the Enterprise. The kind that with anyone else he’d imagine would end with them in bed, panting each other’s names.

Yeah, he did. Go big or go home. If it didn’t go well he’d apologize profusely and go wallow in self pity until Scotty picked them back up again. If Jim was anything he was great at making the best out of awkward situations. With a new sense of determination, Jim made his way down from the tree (yeah, he was definitely gonna get a glorified playground on the Enterprise), and headed back to the cave. He was going to fix this, dammit.

…

When Spock returned to the cave that he and Jim were temporarily inhabiting, he immediately knew something was off in the way Jim was acting. Jim had gathered a selection of fresh new fruit and was in the process of folding up the thermal blanket when Spock walked in, already wary.

“Spock!” Jim smiled weakly, tucking the thin blanket beneath his arm and carrying the fruit in a makeshift sack out of one of his clean shirts. 

Spock’s eyebrow rose. “Jim, what are you doing?” 

“We’re going on a picnic.” Jim stated, as if Spock had no say in the matter. 

Properly affronted, Spock’s eyebrow rose farther into his hairline. “I do not remember agreeing to a picnic, Captain.” He slapped the official title on there in the hopes that it would discourage Jim from pursuing whatever foolhardy plan he had in mind. 

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to sway Jim’s train of thought in the slightest. “You’re right, because you didn’t agree. We-- you and I, Spock,” Jim pointed to his chest and then Spock’s, ”Are having a picnic, and that’s an order, I’m afraid.” Jim stood up straight and led the way out of the cave.

Spock, still wanting to dissuade Jim, followed him out with a glare. “What is the purpose of this excursion?” 

Jim glanced back at Spock before replying, “It’s for shits and giggles, Spock. Don’t you ever do anything just for fun? Y’know, kick back and relax?”

Spock, putting the emotionless facade back on as to not escalate the situation further, evened out his pace to match the Captain’s. “I believe that is what we have each been doing this past week.”

“You know what I mean, Spock. I mean in your free time, not when you find yourself stranded on a possibly hazardous planet with your co-worker.” Jim rolled his eyes, mostly for his own benefit since Spock, walking behind him, wouldn’t be able to see his own growing agitation. 

Spock found his exasperation with Jim growing, what with his forcing Spock to wash himself in a body of water, his apparent want to get off the planet as soon as possible as displayed by the unsuccessful communicator rescue mission, most likely to get away from Spock. The exasperation was underlaid with a level of confusion. Clouded memories of hands on him, lips on his and love confessions that he was beginning to think were some kind of cruel delusions his mind inflicted upon him. Not that it was the first time he’d fantasized such things. 

Thankfully, they arrived where Jim had apparently decided the picnic would be held before Spock could punch him. Unfortunately, that spot was the river. 

Spock’s steps slowed as he watched Jim lay the blanket on the grassy ground, carefully maneuvering around the mud leftover from the storm the night before, set the pile of fruit in the middle, sat on one side of the relatively small blanket and motioned for Spock to sit on the other side. Spock did so with a stoic face. 

It was awkwardly silent for a few moments while the two seemed to regain composure over themselves. 

“We need to talk about last night.” Jim finally said, looking up from his knees.

Spock’s eyes snapped up at ‘last night’ and caught Jim’s gaze. Did the love confession actually happen? The hands supporting him? The reassuring touches? Everything clicked in his head, then fell apart again. No… Jim didn’t love him. Why would Jim love him? It was illogical. Apprehension and some small sparks of anger invaded Spock’s consciousness. 

Jim squirmed under the intense look Spock was subjecting him to. “I’m sorry for being a jackass and making us go out there for some stupid, unimportant device. It’s probably destroyed at this point, anyway.” The words came out in a jumble, and Jim broke eye contact.

Spock inclined his head, eyes just slightly narrowed. Unimportant? Jim risked both their lives to attempt retrieving it, almost losing Spock’s. How could it be unimportant? “It is not an ‘unimportant device’. It would have gotten us off of the planet days earlier, whereas now, as you have previously pointed out, we will have to wait for a landing party. It was a logical decision to try and locate the communicator.”

“Well, not when my first officer’s scared shitless by the water!” Jim motioned to Spock, defensive. “I’ve thrown your phobia in your face twice during this whole thing! You are  _ so _ much more important than any stupid communicator is, Spock. Why don’t you believe that?” 

Spock blinked. “Captain, you are infinitely more valuable to the Enterprise and her crew.”

“Spock, I’m not talking about the Enterprise, you idiot. I’m saying that you’re important to  _ me. _ ” 

Spock faltered, startled by the softened look on Jim’s face and the sincerity of his words. He opened his mouth to say something in response, but found there were no words to explain the sudden feelings of shock, disbelief, but also something terribly akin to affection blooming in his chest. 

“Captain, I’m afraid I… do not comprehend.” 

The soft look on Jim’s face fell. “Are you fucking kidding me, Spock? Jesus Christ.” 

Spock lowered his head slightly but before he could even begin to think of a response, he was being pinned to the ground by a pair of strong hands and, purely on instinct, punched Jim right in the face. 

“FUCK, Spock!” Jim yelled and fell back, clutching his face. “Did you forget your fucking super-strength?”

Spock gaped for a moment, sitting up. “It is not ‘super-strength.’ It is average for a Vulcan. Regardless, perhaps, if you had not  _ tackled _ me quite so suddenly, Captain, I may not have instinctively punched you,” he spat, the words coming out with more venom than he had intended. Though he could not regret the words. Even if they were friends, he could not bring himself to pity the man who had been so rude to him the past two days. 

“I wasn’t tackling-- Spock, did you think I was going to hurt you? Oh my god,” Jim dropped his hands from his face, staring at Spock in open astonishment. “You can’t seriously think I would ever hurt you. I guess we’re even now though. Your black eye went away a lot faster than this will, though.” 

Spock pushed down whatever guilt he may have felt upon looking at Jim’s bruising left eye. “I do not know what to think anymore, Captain,” He admitted with the hints of a scowl, standing up and quickly brushing off his pants. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jim narrowed his eyes and stood up, getting right in Spock’s face. 

Spock leveled his gaze with Jim’s. “It means you did not know what you were talking about while performing CPR last night,” he replied cooly. 

Jim’s eyes widened minutely.  _ So, he remembered _ . “I knew exactly what I was talking about,” and the earnestness in his voice nearly convinced Spock.

“I think not,” Spock replied, trying to keep his face passive. 

Jim gathered himself. Was he really about to repeat his love confession? Could he? It was different last night; Spock had only been semi-conscious and it had been life or death. It was easier when someone’s life was on the line. Jim cringed; he didn’t  _ want _ anyone’s life to be on the line, especially not Spock’s. So he breathed in and exhaled slowly. Spock glared at him. 

“Spock, listen to me.” Jim looked up, making his eyes as vulnerable as he could. He  _ needed _ Spock to understand this. “I love you, dumbass, and I don’t know when it started or how, but I know that I love you and your stupid bowl cut and pointy ears. I love the way the corners of your mouth turn upward when you’re talking, especially when you’re talking about something you love. I can only follow your science talk half the time but damn do I love to listen. I love your deep brown eyes, and the way they betray how human you are. I love the way you and I walk down the halls of the Enterprise together like we’re the most powerful beings in the universe, like nothing can stop us, no matter how illogical that might seem. Listen, I know you’re a half-Vulcan and that you’ve been through a lot of shit, I know that you must feel like you’ve never truly belonged anywhere and that no one accepts you, but look at me, Spock, look at me right here in front of you. I accept you and I’d declare it in front of the entire fucking universe Spock, you belong with me, by my side. I accept you, of course I do, you fucking idiot. I goddamn love you.” 

Spock blinked, his heart racing in his side. Jim loved him. But no… It had to be fake, this couldn’t be true. No one loved him. Not since his mother, and especially not Jim. “It is… not true.”

Jim gaped at him. “You--”

Spock set his jaw despite his flying heart. “You could never experience any such emotion for me. I am… not yours. You are confused.” And he quickly turned around, fully intending to run from the situation. But before he could even move, he was shoved, hard, and found himself underwater in the river. 

He panicked, his heart racing for another reason, and immediately stumbled to stand in the shallow river. Coughing and wiping water off his face he searched wildly for Jim, who jumped into the water after him and was now wading toward Spock with shock and almost fear in his eyes. 

“Shit, Spock, I’m so sorry, I was just frustrated and--”

Spock  _ growled  _ ( _ holy shit,  _ Jim’s mind whispered), grabbed the front collar of Jim’s shirt and dragged him through the small waterfall to slam him against the dry, smooth alcove wall behind it, knocking the wind out of Jim.

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck I’m sorry, Spock, I’m a fucking idiot, I take back all of it, we can pretend this never happened--”

“Shut up,” Spock snarled, Jim’s pleads for mercy were swiftly cut off with Spock almost violently slotting his lips against Jim’s, to which Jim’s only response was a low moan and slight bucking of his hips. Spock, apparently, would have none of that, as he pushed his pelvis against Jim’s to hold him in his place. Heat went straight to Jim’s cock as Spock relentlessly ground against him, then slid his leg in between Jim’s and  _ lifted _ him against the wall.  _ What the fuck?  _ Spock grabbed Jim’s wrists from where he had been grasping fistfuls of Spock’s soaking wet shirt and pinned them above his head.

Jim inhaled deeply as Spock pulled away to graze his teeth along Jim’s neck. “Holy shit,” Jim could only breathe before Spock sucked lightly on Jim’s neck then full-on  _ bit _ him. “ _ Motherfucker, _ ” Jim gasped, and arched against the hard body holding him against the rock wall.

“Remove your shirt,” Spock growled into Jim’s ear while letting go of the man’s wrists, and Jim wondered what it said about him that he was turned on by this domineering side of Spock. Apparently that stray thought was enough to make Spock impatient, and before Jim could pull his shirt over his head himself there was an urgent whisper of, “Faster,” and then he heard seams rip, felt cool hair against his skin, and the discarded fabric was tossed somewhere to their left. Spock’s hands ran up along Jim’s chest. Jim was speechless for a couple seconds.

“It’s only fair if you take yours off now, Spock,” Jim urged, and though Spock effectively shut him up with another scrape of his teeth against the hollow of Jim’s collarbones, his shirt quickly joined Jim’s in the water somewhere, and the skin on skin contact was  _ glorious _ . 

Spock moved his hands up to Jim’s hair, first pulling gently, testing the waters, and then yanking hard when Jim practically mewled at the action. How many noises could Jim  _ make?  _ Emboldened by the response, and the pressure that he felt straining at his Starfleet issue pants, Spock moved his hands to Jim’s waist, holding him against the rock face with one hand and sliding another into the waistband of Jim’s pants teasingly. Unbidden, Spock’s mind betrayed him.  _ This isn’t real, _ it whispered, and in response Spock pushed his hand down farther, wrapping his fingers around Jim’s hard penis.

“Spock, _ I want this, _ ” Jim said, breathless from the contact, and Spock should have known Jim would pick up on the doubt that was creeping into his mind. “Keep going.” Spock nodded minutely, and satisfied that Spock was sufficiently reassured, Jim managed to hook a leg around Spock’s waist with a grin. “Now let me fuck your hand.”

That statement was enough for Spock to unbutton and push Jim’s pants down to his thighs, and he was met for the first time with the sight of Jim’s cock.  _ It was beautiful, like the rest of him _ , he thought. “Hurry up,” Jim whined, and brought Spock out of his reverie. “The faster you get me off the faster I can have my mouth around your dick.” 

_ Oh, _ Spock thought, and then his hand was moving. Firm, hard strokes up and down Jim’s shaft, periodically stopping to run his hand over Jim’s testicles, which Jim did seem to like very much. Each time Spock repeated the motion Jim’s entire body seemed to shiver, as if it was cold, although Spock could tell that it was at average human temperature.  _ Interesting.  _

The pleasure of running his hand up and down Jim was not lost on Spock. He had forced his imaginings of this out of his mind for fear that they would interfere with his work, but he found those fantasies were transcended by the reality. With every stroke he became more and more hyperaware of everything that was happening around him. Jim’s shallow panting and thrusting in time with Spock’s rhythm, and the friction between Jim’s cock and Spock’s sensitive hand was almost overwhelming. Spock wondered if he could come just from the pressure on his hand, and filed the idea way for later experimentation.

“Spock, your  _ hands _ ,” Jim moaned, and leaned his head back against the rock. Spock examined the marks he’d made on Jim’s neck a few minutes ago, which were already starting to bruise.  _ Good.  _ Spock had never considered himself possessive, but Vulcans did mate for life, so he should not have been surprised. Although, considering his current state of arousal his cloudy thoughts were somewhat understandable. 

Unthinkingly, Spock took his hand that was on Jim’s waist and moved it to meet the hand that Jim was unsuccessfully trying to grab onto the wet rock wall with, connecting their fingers in a Vulcan kiss. Through the touch, he could feel the jumbled surface emotions coming off of Jim.  _ Arousal. Surprise. Happiness.  _ Above all else, happiness. Could he have been serious in his profession of love? 

“Stop thinking,” Jim whispered, and connected their hands palm to palm, and Spock gasped. “Only you could treat a handjob like a science experiment.”

Spock’s face flushed green as Jim intertwined their fingers and pushed hard into Spock’s hand. “Come on… I’m so close…” Jim breathed, and Spock tightened his grip on Jim’s cock and quickened his pace. He buried his face against Jim’s neck and breathed deeply. The scent that was unequivocally Jim permeated Spock’s nose, and he dragged his tongue up the long, exposed expanse of skin that was Jim’s neck. Spock felt Jim grab him by the back of his neck, pulling Spock up to bring their lips together. Spock prodded with his tongue at the seam of Jim’s closed lips which fell open easily, allowing Spock entry. Spock licked in and sucked on his bottom lip, eliciting a breathy groan from the man. 

Spock felt Jim arch into him, hard, with a moan that sounded close to Spock’s name, and then he felt hot semen on his hands. The way Jim relaxed against him was so trusting and pure that he was almost overwhelmed. He was not given any time to dwell on it, however. Almost immediately, Jim had dropped into the water ( _ His pants will be soaked,  _ Spock thought dimly), and Spock had to use his hand to prop himself up against the wall because Jim was unbuttoning his pants and Jim’s hands were on him and then  _ Jim’s mouth was on him. _

Spock’s mind fixated on the sensation of Jim’s mouth on his cock, and whatever the fuck Jim was doing with his tongue. The wet heat around Spock’s cock was a sharp contrast to the cool water that was misting around them from the waterfall. At each pass of Jim’s tongue across the head of Spock’s dick Spock felt himself approach closer and closer to a precipice that he had not come near in a very long time. 

“Jim. Jim,  _ please,”  _ Spock  _ whined _ , and the irony that he had initially tried to be the assertive one was not lost on him. He moved his hand back to Jim’s head and yanked on his hair, eliciting a smile that Spock felt around his dick, and then Spock was falling over the edge, the roaring in his ears matched by the sound of the waterfall behind him. 

The post-orgasmic haze dulled Spock’s usually acute senses, and through the metaphorical cloud he heard Jim whisper in his ear, “You’re perfect.” Then, Jim was leading him back through the waterfall, out of the shallow river and towards the thermal blanket, their hands intertwined.  _ Does he know the intimacy of this act?  _ Spock distantly wondered. He would inform him later. It would certainly shed some light on Spock’s behavior back during their flower crown excursion for Jim. 

“I’m gonna take care of you,” Jim mumbled sweetly, and helped lower a river water-soaked Spock onto the blanket. “I’ll be right back.”

It could not have been more than a minute before Jim returned with one of their discarded shirts retrieved from the river, and he gently wiped down Spock’s hand and his own stomach before laying down on the blanket and wrapping his arms protectively around Spock. They were soaking wet, but found neither of them could have cared less.  

Spock looked up through the trees at the midday sun and began to think about what he would do to Jim when they were back on the Enterprise, but was distracted by the voice of the man wafting up towards him from the spot on his chest. 

“Does this mean you love me too?” and Spock did not miss the hint of apprehension in the question. After a moment of slight confusion, he connected this question to Jim’s love confession from earlier.

Reaching down to intertwine their fingers, Spock looked at him gently and projected as many positive feelings through the contact as he could. “Yes, Jim. I believe it does.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was the first time i've written porn in like three years please be gentle
> 
> next time there's more cute fluff because gotta love some self indulgence
> 
> @audjolras and @illogicalimpulses on tumblr
> 
> comments and kudos are always appreciated!!! thank u for reading


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